


Remind Me Again

by momentofclarity



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: A lot of talk about thoughts and feelings TM, Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Architect Louis, Blow Jobs, Flower Shop Owner Harry, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Light Angst, M/M, Romantic platonic friends to lovers, Snogging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-23
Updated: 2017-07-23
Packaged: 2018-12-05 20:33:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 28,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11585688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/momentofclarity/pseuds/momentofclarity
Summary: He loves it when they do this, when they find comfort in each other like this, so close, soft and sweet. They have never really talked about it beyond “Oh so that’s a thing we do now” all those years ago, but it’s also something they have silently agreed not to share with their friends. This is just for them, just like the way they sometimes fall asleep in each other’s beds, pressed closed under the covers, or how they love to cook each other dinner and light candles all over the flat. They have lived together since they were teenagers and over the years they have settled into each other in ways that the other boys just wouldn’t understand.The romantic platonic friends to lovers AU where they are forced to speak about everything that has always been unspoken.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I’m so excited to share this with you, I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> First of all, thank you [Nic](http://louandhazaf.tumblr.com/) for being the best beta (and generally amazing person) a writer could ever ask for. You bring so much life and structure to my stories and I cherish you to the moon and back.
> 
> Thank you to Pen for making the beautiful [artwork. ](http://gaycousinlarry.tumblr.com/post/163322277488/remind-me-again-written-by-momentofclarity)
> 
> Thank you to everyone who keeps writing to me about my fics, you honestly have no idea how much it means to me. A special shout out to Ri for being my salty sweet and always cheering me on, ily.
> 
> Comments, kudos and bookmarks would obviously mean the world to me, please leave a comment if you enjoyed the story or wanna have a chat ❤
> 
> And as always, this obviously (hah) never happened and never will.

“Remind me again why I do this? Remind why I thought it would be a good idea to do projects with large corporations who know _nothing_ about architecture but are still _adamant_ about what they want instead of, oh I don’t know, maybe trusting the _bloody_ _architect!?_ ”

Louis starts yelling the second he comes home, taking his polished shoes off by the door, leaving his blazer over a kitchen chair and unbuttoning his shirt collar as he makes his way through the flat. He throws himself down on the sofa, ultimately landing with his head in Harry’s lap, face burrowing into his belly. “Please tell me Haz,” he whines as Harry’s fingers start combing through his hair.

“Rough day, huh?” Harry asks, ignoring his rhetorical question.

“Ungh, yeah, what time is it even?” he asks with a pout, even though Harry can’t see his face. He has long since stopped wondering if he’ll grow out of his tantrums and he suspects Harry has done the same.

“Nearly midnight,” Harry answers and his hand squeezes at the tense muscle of Louis’ neck, making Louis melt into him with a relieved moan.

“Jesus Christ, I need a vacation.”

Harry chuckles, his thumb caressing down his cheek in comfort. “It’ll be alright, babe. You always work things out in the end.”

Louis doesn’t answer because he knows Harry is right and they both know he just needs a good cuddle and someone to agree with him. Harry happens to be an expert at both. They stay like that for a while, Harry watching telly and running his fingers through Louis hair as Louis starts to unwind after his long day at work. He breathes in the smell of Harry, a smell he’s so used to by now he can’t pick out the different notes, just knows that it smells like home.

He’s drifting off when Harry leans down, his soft deep voice in Louis’ ear, “Lou, time for bed.” He gently nudges Louis up to a sitting position before he pulls him up and guides him to his bedroom with an arm around his waist. “You should really just head straight to bed instead of doing this every night love. You can barely stand up.”

Louis curls into Harry’s side and yawns. “Yeah, yeah, I will.” But they both know he'll do the same thing tomorrow. Unless tomorrow is one of those lovely nights when he'll get home early enough for them to cuddle up on the sofa over dinner. And if not - Harry will wait up for him just like tonight, waiting for Louis to collapse into him the second he comes home. It’s just what they do.

Louis’ eyes fall shut just moments after Harry has tucked him in and left his door ajar with a soft, “Sleep tight, Lou.”

-

The next day is as busy as the day before and Louis can’t wait for it to be over. He can’t help thinking that this isn’t what he signed up for. He didn't plan to work impossible hours under massive pressure and then end up with a result that is nowhere near his initial vision. He became an architect because he’s always been fascinated by the history of architecture and he wanted to be part of creating it’s future history. As a kid he often rode his bike to go look at the old buildings in Doncaster and he could sit for hours studying every detail of Doncaster Minster. Lately, he’s felt more like a useless middleman between his boss and the clients, who both have ridiculous expectations and narrow minds all at the same time.

Harry keeps texting him silly jokes and words of encouragement throughout the day, making it at least semi-bearable. When he leaves the office at 10.30 PM the only thing that stops him from lying down on the ground and screaming in sheer protest is the thought of Harry’s hot cocoa as soon as he gets home.

-

The pub is filled with students and the usual suspects. Louis notes bitterly that it was a long time since they were part of the first group. Louis is early for once and him and Niall talk about the week and sip their beers as they wait for Liam and Harry to join them. It’s a bit of a tradition this, Friday Pub Night. Ever since they all went in different directions, career and family-wise, they have made a point to meet up as regularly as they can manage. Since he lives with Harry he sees him every day (or at least every night before passing out), but with his intermittently busy work schedule and trying to hit the gym at least a few times a month, it’s sometimes tricky to prioritize. How Liam does it with two kids is beyond him, all the more kudos to him.

“Sorry I’m late! Had a bit of a crises in one of the shops,” Harry explains as he slides into the booth next to Louis, hugging his side in greeting.

“Excuses excuses,” Louis mutters and pats his leg. Harry just squeezes him a little tighter before he lets him go, eyes scanning the menu even though he gets the salmon salad each time.

Liam joins them only a few minutes later and they fall into their regular routine of banter, complaining about work, and interrogating each other about their love lives. For the past couple of weeks Liam has been under scrutiny as they're all nosy as hell and Liam just started dating (“We’re not _dating_ , we’re just _hanging out!_ ”) a guy he met at the kids’ favourite playground of all places. They are totally dating though, because Liam blushes deeply every time they bring it up. It’s all rather adorable.

“But you saw him last Saturday yeah? On your kids-free weekend,” Harry asks, eyebrow raised in mock innocent curiosity, eyes glinting mischievously. Louis can’t help grinning at the sight.

“Yeah, we had some beer and watched the game, nothing strange about it!” Liam exclaims, his blush now a deep scarlet.

Louis bursts out in a shriek of laughter. “Oh god, are you _trying_ to cock block yourself?”

Liam hangs his head down. “We’re only friends like… I don’t even know if he’s into guys.”

Niall rubs his back sympathetically. “Why don’t you ask him out to something not sports related? Like dinner? Haven’t all your dates been a bit…”

“ _Straight?_ ” Louis and Harry say at the same time, exchanging pleased looks at their shared brilliance.

Niall throws them an ugly glare as he probably considers them inconsiderate of Liam’s predicament. Unsurprisingly, they instantly sober up like scolded children.

“Ey, sorry, just, maybe Niall’s right you know?” Louis says. “I know you’ve been struggling with getting ‘back in the game’ or whatever, but like, he’s lucky to date you, mate.”

“Yeah, just ask him if he wants to go to Olivier’s or something, he can’t possibly consider that anything but romantic, right?” Harry suggests and Liam looks up at that, clearly considering it an option.

“Maybe, just, ungh, can we please talk about something else? What about your date last week?” Liam asks and Harry just shakes his head and grins self deprecatingly.

“Hah, oh god, we didn’t click at all, he was very stiff,” Harry says and realises his unintentional pun two seconds later, cheeks pinking up in delight as he laughs. “And _not_ in the good way.”

Niall goes on to tell them about the girl who brought up kids two minutes into the first date, dividing the four of them into two teams. Niall and Louis decidedly horrified at the idea while Liam agrees with Harry’s speech of “It only seems reasonable, why should she waste time on someone who’s not on the same page?”

The beer is as good as usual and the easy comfort of his friends falls like a warm fuzzy blanket over Louis as he relaxes more and more into Harry’s side as the evening progresses. Nick joins them a little later on once he gets off from work. He’s not really a part of their inseparable foursome, so he doesn’t always join in for Friday Pub Night, but he’s one of Louis’ best friends and therefore has a standing invitation.

Nick urges Niall and Liam into buying umbrella drinks as Louis and Harry buy another pint each. When the trio has gotten properly rowdy from the third round of frozen margaritas, they decide to take advantage of Liam’s kids-free night and go out dancing. Louis and Harry decline in favour of heading home and Nick rolls his eyes at them. “You’re like an old married couple, ever heard that one before?”

Nick making good-natured jabs at them is something they are well used to by now, so Louis just gives Harry a peck on the cheek and smiles as sweetly as he can manage. “Come on, darling. Let’s go home and scratch each other’s backs.”

-

He wakes up to a soft wailing sound. At first he thinks it must be the remnants of a dream, but soon thereafter the wailing turns into “Loooooooou… _Loooooouiiiiis_ … Lou wake up!” Louis groans into his pillow even though he can’t help grinning at his ridiculous flat mate.

He tumbles out of bed, his head pounding slightly and his mouth dry as a sheet. God he’s such a good friend, honestly. After a quick stop by the bathroom he notices the wailing has quieted down, Harry probably assuming he’s on his way.

“What?” he asks with as much fake annoyance as he can muster, hand perched on his hip. Harry peaks out from beneath the covers, blurry eyed and curls messy on top of his head.

“Come hold me, I’m bloody miserable,” Harry whimpers.

Louis snorts but makes his way over to the bed, climbing beneath the covers and wraps an arm around Harry’s waist. “And who’s fault is that?”

“Beer,” Harry pouts and Louis just laughs.

“Ah of course, that fucking bastard.”

Harry nods. “Yeah, it’s either that, or you for not reminding me that I’m not twenty anymore and hangovers are a real thing that happen in my life.”

Louis can’t stop sniggering but pets Harry’s side carefully. “How many beers did you even have, like six? You shouldn’t be this hungover mate.”

At that Harry’s whole face scrunches up and burrows into the pillow. “ _Five_ fricking beers. What the fuck.”

“Oh my god, you’re making _me_ feel old,” Louis says and places a small kiss on Harry’s forehead. “Let me get you some painkillers and we’ll sleep it off yeah?”

Once Harry swallows the painkillers and some water they curl up together in Harry’s bed, falling back asleep within a few minutes.

-

Harry’s in the shower as Louis is making them a quick Carbonara for lunch. Louis fills up tall glasses of ice water and sets them on the living room table next to the pasta. When Harry emerges, hair wet and clad in a threadbare black t-shirt and grey joggers, he looks a lot less like a train wreck.

“God that felt good.” Harry chuckles in relief and plops down on the sofa.

“Yeah, you look a lot better, the food will do you good too.” Louis smiles and gives him a bowl of cheesy pasta.

“What would I even do without you?” Harry asks, leaning his head on the headrest of the sofa, dimple deep in his cheek.

“Probably perish.” Louis grins back and pats his cheek.

Harry picks a movie to watch and once they’ve finished their food they automatically settle into each other again, Louis settling on his back with Harry draped over his chest.

Louis wakes up with a jolt as the end credits roll over the screen.

“Best movie I’ve ever seen.” Harry grins at him. “Can you _believe_ that plot twist?”

He gets a lazy grin in return as Louis stretches out, his joints cracking slightly. “Love a good movie,” he says and lets himself revel in how relaxed he feels, all warm and cosy. Harry nuzzles in close, apparently feeling cuddly as well and it’s not long until their lips find each other in a soft kiss. Louis’ hands slowly travel up over Harry’s back, enjoying the feeling of soft fabric beneath his fingers. Harry’s tongue is hot and wet against his and Louis can feel himself melt into it until the world consists of nothing but lazy movement and the warm slide of their mouths.

He loves it when they do this, when they find comfort in each other like this, so close, soft and sweet. They have never really talked about it beyond “Oh so that’s a thing we do now” all those years ago, but it’s also something they have silently agreed not to share with their friends. This is just for them, just like the way they sometimes fall asleep in each other’s beds, pressed closed under the covers, or how they love to cook each other dinner and light candles all over the flat. They have lived together since they were teenagers and over the years they have settled into each other in ways that the other boys just wouldn’t understand.

When Harry’s phone rings a good twenty minutes of snogging later, Harry smiles down at Louis and gives him a last peck on the lips before he goes to catch his phone. Louis curls up on the side with a soft smile on his lips and decides another nap sounds like a good idea.

-

It’s on Tuesday morning on his way into the office that he gets the phone call. He’s running a bit late so he’s distracted as he picks up and it takes him a few seconds to identify the other person on the line. When he does, he stops in his tracks.

“I got the job?” he asks incredulously, his brain suddenly scattered all over the floor.

“Yes, if you accept of course,” the man, Mr Adam Malkin him _fricking_ self, says cheerily. “We’re very impressed by your interview and portfolio. We feel like you’d be the perfect fit for Malkin & Bots.”

His heart is racing in his chest and he feels dizzy, on the edge between numb and completely overwhelmed.

“Erhm, I’m… thank you, I’m… that’s incredible,” he stammers out.

“So, what do you say Louis?”

“I…” What the fuck does one even say when offered your dream job? “Can I… I’m truly so excited for this opportunity, I love the work that you do at Malkin & Bots, but is it possible for me to take some time before giving you a definite answer?”

“Yes sure, you live in Manchester now, right?

“Yes, that’s correct.”

“So naturally you have some things to work out if you decide to take the job… You know what, we’re currently focusing on a deadline that’s set by the end of the month, why don’t you take that time to think things through and get back to us on the 29th at the latest? We would really like for you to join us and I wanted to give you the good news as soon as possible, so you can start making plans.”

“Oh that’s, that’s really generous, thank you so much,” Louis nearly stumbles out, relieved at getting nearly two weeks to think things through.

“No problem, I’m looking forward to hearing from you Louis, and if you have any questions don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Thank you, thank you so much, I’ll get back to you as soon as I’m able.”

They hang up and Louis stands, stunned, as the world spirals around him. For a few seconds he convinces himself that he just hallucinated the phone call and has to check his phone to see if he just had the most surreal conversation of his life. He did. And they just offered him a job. At one of his favourite architect firms. In London. Shit.

He’s pulled out of his head by one of his colleagues waving her hand in front of him with a worried look on her face. “Are you alright?”

He looks at the big clock by the entrance of the building. “Yeah, sorry, erhm, oh shit I’m already so late, sorry!” He rushes over to the lift and does his best to avoid his boss on the way over to his office. Small victories and all.

He dives head first into his current project as soon as he’s shrugged off his coat and it’s a fine distraction up until lunch when he’s left staring at the lunchbox of lasagna he’d brought with him. Harry’s famous lasagna. Harry. Guilt curls in his stomach as he thinks about the consequences of this morning’s phone call.

-

By the end of the day he’s almost, for the first time ever, dreading to pack up and head home. The consequences of his actions now seeming a lot larger as they have made their way from a distant daydream into reality.

A heavy stone settles in his stomach as regret seeps through his veins, why the fuck didn’t he just tell Harry about applying for this job? Why did he have to go and make something that seemed so small, into something that now seems extremely daunting? He tries to shake it off as he gets on the bus and sits down to stare out onto the scenery of Manchester flashing by. He can’t help but wonder what it would be like to stare at the streets of London flashing by on his way home from work instead.

 _Remind me again why I did this_ , he thinks sourly as he bangs his forehead softly against the cold window.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave kudos or a comment if you enjoyed ❤
> 
> You can also find me on [tumblr.](http://gaycousinlarry.tumblr.com/)
> 
> And here's a tumblr post if you want to [reblog.](http://gaycousinlarry.tumblr.com/post/163322277488/remind-me-again-written-by-momentofclarity) Thank you!


	2. Chapter 2

The air is thick with steam as Harry climbs out of the shower and he braces himself not to slip on the tiles. One time Louis had to come help him up after he smashed his hip against the toilet on the way down and it wasn’t his proudest moment, so he tries to avoid a repeat.

He’s had a good day at work today—they received a big order from a favourite client and he met the new girl who’s been working at one of the shops for a few weeks now. So, he’s still in a good mood, albeit a bit tired, as he’s whistling to himself and toweling his hair. When he hears the front door open and shut, he pulls on a pair of joggers and heads out to greet Louis, wanting to tell him all about the big charity event they’ve been hired for.

“Hey, what do you want for din—” he starts and then takes in Louis’ tense shoulders and the nervous twitch of his fingers. “Is everything alright?” he asks instead, worry immediately curling in his stomach.

“No, yeah… I’m, it’s all good,” Louis says with a stiff shrug that wouldn't convince anyone, least of all Harry.

When Louis throws him a quick glance Harry lifts an eyebrow to show he’s not impressed by the lie, eyes flittering over the features of his best friend, trying to figure out what’s wrong. Louis emits a strange noise at that, like he’s trying to clear his throat and let out a whine at the same time. It makes the corner of Harry’s mouth twitch with amusement and some relief floods through his system; maybe it’s just another dickhead client.

“Can I just get out of these clothes and have a cuppa and then we’ll talk, yeah?” Louis asks and actually waits for Harry to answer him, as if he’d protest the request.

“Of course. I’ll put the kettle on,” Harry says and can’t help but frown.

They curl up on the sofa with a cup of tea each, Harry having put a t-shirt on and Louis in his favourite joggers and a black jumper. Harry can tell he’s nervous and it’s a bit nerve wracking. He can’t recall the last time Louis was nervous in front of _him._

“So umm… I got offered a job today,” Louis says and he looks something close to apologetic. It takes a few moments for Harry’s brain to catch up because the statement is so far away from what he expected to hear. Once it does though, he just keeps looking at Louis, waiting for him to continue, as there’s obviously more to it.

“At Malkin & Bots. You remember I’ve talked about them?” Louis asks and worries his bottom lip between his fingers. It’s such a Harry thing to do it would’ve made him smile if he wasn’t so busy trying to figure out where this conversation is heading.

He nods. “Yeah, you… isn’t that the ones who made the Greenland project you went on about for weeks?”

Louis smiles a bit at that, appearing pleased that Harry remembers. “Yeah, well, they… they want me to come work with them in London.”

Another few moments pass by before Louis’ words start making sense to him and during that time he sees Louis’ face morph from pleased to anxious. When it finally hits him he bursts out “Oh my god! But that’s amazing!? Babe, that’s like—oh god, you’re the best!” before throwing himself at Louis who’s had the good sense to put down his tea on the table.

Louis hugs him tight and Harry can feel the tension seeping out of him, melting from sharp angles to soft curves against Harry. “It’s quite amazing yeah,” Louis murmurs against his neck. Harry pulls back to get a look at him; Louis’ eyes crinkled up at the corners.

“But like… how? Did they just call and offer you a job out of nowhere?” Harry laughs out incredulously, bubbling excitement in his chest.

Louis’ smile suddenly dims and Harry is officially the most confused he’s been for at least a decade. Ever since Louis stepped through the door he’s not been able to settle for any one feeling for more than he few minutes and it’s… well, confusing.

“No… erhm I… it’s so stupid but like… I applied for a job there a few months back but it wasn’t… I never in a million years thought I’d even get a reply you know, so I just… I just did it because I couldn’t _not_ and then they asked me for an interview and I—”

“Wait, what? You’ve had an interview with them?” Harry asks, feeling the need to clarify because why hasn’t he heard of this until now?

Louis nods and looks at him sheepishly, cheeks tinted pink. “Yeah, you know when I went to London to visit Lots?”

Harry nods, remembering how fond he’d been over Louis’ sudden need to see his sister when those types of visits were usually planned months ahead.

“That’s when I had the interview and I honestly thought I had no chance so I just went there with no expectations. I just had to take the opportunity to meet with them,” he goes on and he sounds so urgent, like he’s in a hurry to explain the whirring in Harry’s head.

“But why didn’t you tell me?” Harry asks, another incredulous chuckle escaping him, because he can’t even fathom a reason for why he wouldn’t. “I would’ve like… come with you, you must have been so nervous?”  


Louis shrugs. “I know. I’m sorry, I don’t… it was just, I really didn’t think I had a chance so I just, I guess I figured… like if no one knew about it then I wouldn’t have to be embarrassed about being rejected.”

“Well you could’ve told me about the bloody interview at least! That’s just—it’s so amazing Lou, we should’ve celebrated that alone,” he protests and tries not to pout. He would’ve wanted to be there, to cheer him on and tell him he’ll do amazing, tell him they’d be stupid not to hire him.

“I know, I’m sorry,” Louis says, cheeks still pink and he looks a bit like a kicked puppy, making Harry’s resolve fall away faster than anything.

“It’s alright, just… it feels a bit shitty you didn’t think you could share something like this with me,” he grumbles. Because even if that shouldn’t be his main focus right this second, he’s always found it near impossible to not be completely honest with Louis.

Louis’ head drops to the backrest of the sofa as he groans and slaps a hand over his face. “I know. I’m such a prick. I’m so sorry. You know that’s not it, like… I didn’t tell _anyone,_ okay? It was just, something I did for me and now it just sort of, became this real thing and it’s… I’m sorry.”

Louis looks miserable and it makes something sad twist in Harry’s stomach. His best friend literally just got offered his dream job and Harry’s made it about himself. He feels a bit sick about his own self-centeredness. “Hey no, wait… fuck, it’s—ignore me please. I’m just being silly, I’m so excited for you, I promise. This is so great, _you’re_ so great, the best. I’m so proud of you,” he rambles out, trying to cover up the mess he’s made. No wonder Louis was a nervous mess when he came home. _Jeez_.

“Really?” Louis asks, smile small and soft, eyes now filled with a glimmer of excitement.

He nods resolutely and pulls the other man into his arms. “The proudest.”

-

They spend the rest of the evening ordering food from Louis’ favourite restaurant and talking about the job. Louis is absolutely shining as he goes on about the company’s latest projects and what the position entails. Harry goes to bed with a full belly and warm pride in his chest and he sleeps like a baby until his alarm goes off in the early morning.

As he’s stuck in morning traffic on the way to the office, however, the warm pride and excitement he’d shared with Louis the night before starts to give way to a string of questions they seemed to have glazed over during their conversation. They hadn’t even talked about if Louis would actually _take_ the job or not, and as Harry fiddles with the car radio he feels his forehead draw together in a deep frown. He starts thinking about what Louis taking the job would actually mean; how it would uproot everything. Louis would have to move, get a flat in London, and leave Harry to live on his own for the first time ever. And what about their plans for the summer? Would Louis even have time to go hiking in Wales now that he’ll have to go flat hunting and planning for his new job? What about their trip to Barcelona in the autumn? What about renovating the guest bathroom?

By the time he’s made it through his morning meeting and is heading out to his car again to go to his weekly visit at his flagship store, his mind is a mess and his stomach is in knots. One moment he feels stabs of anger and frustration at the fact that Louis hadn’t told him about applying for the job in the first place, the next moment he’ll get caught on practical details of Louis moving. And that’s only until he feels uneasy dread stir at the thought of being left alone, of coming home to an empty flat without the promise of Louis belting through the door a few hours later.

When he arrives at the shop, he tries to push all the worrying aside and focus on his job. He’s had the business for going on seven years now and they are still increasing their profits as well as their good reputation each year. At the age of sixteen he had started working at Potted Plants after school and on weekends. He had slowly and steadily fallen in love the smell of flowers and fruit trees, the feeling of soil underneath his fingers, and the concept of making people happy through the beauty of nature. He kept working at the shop all through business school and when his boss, Miss Olivia, was about to retire she asked him if he wanted to take over the business—it was not a difficult decision. Since then he’s opened up two new shops, including the flagship store at the centre of the city. He loves his job and is passionate about most aspects of it. He likes to get to know all the employees and pays visit to all three shops at least once a week.

As often as he can manage he puts on an apron and gets down to work, because as much as he enjoys expanding the business and coming up with creative ways to make ends meet, it’s on the floor that he’s the most comfortable. After he’s gone through the latest updates with the store manager, Alicia, he almost sheepishly asks if there’s any orders he can put together before he needs to get back to the office. Alicia just gives him a knowing smile and hands him a list of standard bouquets that need to be arranged. He throws himself into the task enthusiastically, vowing to make the most perfect bouquets he can manage. The buzzing in his mind melts away for a few blessed moments.

-

He gets home before Louis, like most days, and he feels oddly relieved by it. He’s exhausted by the emotional rollercoaster he’s spent the day on and he just wants to curl up under a blanket and go to sleep. Usually, he would start thinking about what to make for dinner as he stands in the shower to wash off the grime of the day, but now he just stands there and watches tiny flower petals and leaves swirl in the water as he shakes out his curls. A sight like that normally makes him smile as it reminds him of Louis teasing and calling him a flower child, but now he just sighs and washes his hair thoroughly.

After his shower he forces himself to eat a banana, even though he has no appetite, before heading to bed. It’s not even eight o’clock but he can’t muster up the energy to do much else. He picks up his iPad with the intention to start reading, but his mind still won't let him rest and he struggles to get past the first few lines until he hears the front door open and Louis calling out to him. When he doesn’t answer, Louis seems to move further into the flat to look for him and Harry is grabbed by the urge to turn out the light and pretend to be sleeping.

“Hey,” Louis greets him softly, a hint of worry over his face as he makes his way into Harry’s room. “You alright?”

Harry can’t decide on how to respond since he’s simultaneously confused, frustrated, and a bit sad because of Louis and he’s not used to it. Whenever they fight it’s mostly pointless bickering caused by both of them being exhausted from work, but this runs deeper and he’s not entirely sure how to deal with it.

“I’m fine, just tired,” he says without taking his eyes off the iPad, pretending to be engrossed in his book.

“Oh, busy day at work?” Louis continues to prod and it’s bloody ridiculous, the way his voice has gone soft and careful, because it’s obvious that they both know the tension in the air isn’t because of his job.

“Mhmm,” Harry huffs and feels annoyance rise in his chest, tightening it and making his breath short and quick.

“You sure everything’s alright?” He can feel Louis’ eyes burn into him.

“Yeah,” he says and flicks his eyes over to Louis for a second to reassure him and he gives him a smile that must look a more like a grimace.

“Okay, good.” Louis hovers for a bit, balancing on the balls of his feet before he asks, “Did you make dinner?” and something snaps in Harry.

“No. Make your own damn food for once,” he says, voice flaring with annoyance, but he has to put an effort into not wincing once the words are out. He knows he’s being unfair; that Louis doesn’t take him making dinner most evenings for granted, that Louis makes luxurious brunches every weekend, and brings him tea and biscuits as soon as he asks.

But all their habits and quirks will turn to dust and Harry hasn’t had a single say in it. It clogs up his airwaves and makes it difficult to breathe.

Louis stares at him, blue eyes wide and cheeks blotched red in embarrassment. “Wha— I’m, of course I can, I just, I’m—” He triggers Harry’s protective instincts instantly. Because if there’s something he _hates_ , it’s seeing Louis who usually carries himself with more confidence than anyone he knows, become an insecure stuttering mess.

“No, I know, I’m sorry,” Harry sighs and puts down the tablet, finally meeting Louis’ eyes. “I didn’t mean it like that, I’m just really tired.”

Louis still looks unsure but nods. “O-okay, just, eh, call me if you need anything? I’ll be up for a while longer.”

Harry flashes him a small smile before Louis leaves and then he turns out the light as he burrows down beneath the covers. For a moment, he regrets the way he’s turned down a night spent cuddled up on the sofa together, especially with Louis being home at a reasonable time, but then he thinks about holding Louis while his mind is in turmoil like this and he decides it’s for the best. He’ll just give it another day and he’s sure things will work out. They always do with them.

-

Turns out another day has done nothing to improve his mood or calm his whirring mind so as soon as he gets home after work he shuts himself in his room and does what every other man in his 30’s does in times of need—he calls his mother. They chat for a little while about work, and then her and his stepdad’s anniversary, but it doesn’t take long before she picks up on something being off, so he tells her about Louis’ job offer.

“Oh, but that’s such good news!” Anne exclaims excitedly. “Give him all my love, will ya?”

“Yeah umm… sure,” Harry says and wonders how to word his thoughts without sounding like an absolute tosser.

“What’s going on? Aren’t you excited for him?”

“No, I am, it’s just…” Harry feels his chest tightening up.

“Oh sweetheart, what’s going on in that wonderful head of yours?” his mum asks, voice a mix of concern and fondness.

“He didn’t tell me about it until now. He didn’t even think about what would happen with the flat and me and… I just, it’s like he made this huge decision and he didn’t even consider asking me how I felt about it, you know? Or like even telling me—”

“Hang on now, you said he applied on a whim yeah? He probably didn’t even think this through properly. Has he actually accepted the offer yet?”

“What does that matter?! It’s not like he can’t _not_ take it, it’s his dream job mum! And like, it’s not _about that_ , it’s just… he’s never done anything like this before, like he basically lied to me for months about something that will effect me tons and I just… I don’t know how to deal with it.”

“Okay sweetie, I see your point, I really do, but hear me out for a bit okay? Maybe this is a good thing for the two of you, him getting this job.”

He frowns at that and grumbles slightly. “What do you mean?”

“I understand that it takes some getting used to the idea, but maybe it’s good if the two of you became a little less co-dependent?”

“What do you even mean by that, why would it be a good thing that he’s moving to another fucking city?” he says and raises his voice, not even thinking about the fact that he’s swearing at his mum.

“Hey now, calm down. Just… think about it. I think if you want to meet someone, start a family eventually, I think it could be good that you and Louis are a little less… attached at the hip? He’ll always be your best friend, but think about what happened with Levi.”

“Levi was a jerk,” he protests immediately even though he knows that’s not the whole truth.

“What about Greg then? Or Stefan?”

“Stefan, really mum? I dated him for like three months my first year of uni,” he says and she sighs exasperatedly.

“Well, he was the first boy you ever brought home with you, so that counts for something, and you _know_ that’s not the point of this conversation.”

“I just don’t know what you want me to say, if they can’t handle me having a best friend why would I want to date them?” he asks incredulously and he knows he’s started taking his pent up anger out on his mum by now. He’s such a good son.

“A best friend that you live with and spend basically every single weekend and holiday with? And you _know_ how many people think you’re a couple before they get to know you. That can’t be easy to compete with,” Anne says and he still feels like she doesn’t _get it._

“It’s not a competition mum! If I dated someone I would want them to be close to their friends as well. I just, am I supposed to just give up my best friend, the person who’s been there for me since I was a _kid_ for someone who I _might_ fall in love with? How does that make any sense?”

“You know what Harry, I’m not here for you to yell at,” his mum says and makes it clear she’s had enough of his attitude. “We both know what it’s been like in the past with you and your boyfriends and all I’m saying is, you’re 31 years old. If you ever want to get married and have a family it might be time to start prioritising that sometime in the near future.”

And wow. His mum really knows how to lay it all out on the table. He sags back into his bed and already regrets raising his voice at her. “Sorry mum… I guess I’m just upset over Louis now so I really don’t need you to like… give me shit about all this other stuff,” he mumbles.

“I’m not ‘giving you shit’ Harry, I’m just trying to put what is happening into a bigger context. You and Louis will be fine. I’m sure you’ll work this out. I’m just saying it doesn’t have to be the end of the world.”

Harry burrows into his pillow and sighs deeply, because it sure as hell seems like the end of the world as Harry knows it.

-

When Louis comes home later that night Harry’s made it out to the living room, his mum’s words gnawing at his mind as he shovels instant noodles into his mouth.

“Hi,” is all Louis says in greeting before heading into the kitchen, presumably to make himself some noodles or maybe to avoid his moody roommate. Harry sighs deeply, hating the awkward silence between them, and decides to do his best to make it go away.

A few minutes later Louis appears with bowl of noodles in hand and Harry makes room for him on the sofa. “How was your day?” he asks and maybe his voice is a bit strained, but at least it’s something.

Louis looks up at him in surprise, as if he didn’t expect Harry to talk to him at all. “Oh, eh, it was alright,” he answers and gives Harry a small smile. Louis has never been this careful around him before and it makes something crawl beneath his skin. “How was yours?”

“It was good, umm… I was wondering… you’re home tomorrow night right?” Harry asks as if he doesn’t already know, and that in and of itself is a bit unsettling. As if Louis not telling him about this one thing has somehow caused a rift between them. As if now maybe Harry doesn’t know where Louis will be and when because maybe Louis _didn’t tell him_. He nearly snorts at the thought.

“Yeah, of course,” is Louis’ answer, somehow reinforcing how strange it is for Harry to ask.

“I was thinking, maybe we could cook something together and like watch a movie or something?”

Louis smiles brightly. “Yeah, sounds good, I’d like that.”

Harry can’t help but smile back at him, some of the heaviness on top of his shoulders lifting.

-

They’re watching _Flawless_ for approximately the 57 th time and making small talk over the tacos they made for dinner. Harry can’t help but feeling like they’re both trying to make up for something, like they’re just pretending as they laugh at each other’s jokes. When they eventually fall into silence, Harry’s mind keeps drifting, unable to focus on the movie. He can almost physically feel the space between them, nearly two inches between his thigh and Louis’ hand, and he wonders how other people do it. Two inches might be a small enough space for other roommates hanging out on a Friday night, having dinner on the sofa, but with them it feels like a wall made of a vacuum. Impenetrable nothingness. By now Louis has usually settled between Harry’s thighs, his smaller body slotting together with Harry’s, his head resting on Harry’s stomach as he cards his fingers through Louis’ soft hair. The warm comfort they find in each other has always been one of Harry’s favourite things about them. Sharing his warmth with the person he loves more than anything, gentle hands brushing over his back and soft lips at his temple, has carried him through boring Sunday afternoons and anxiety-riddled nights for as long as he can remember. He’s not even sure if it’s the two inches or the fact that he can see Louis’ fingers twitch as he keeps himself from reaching out that hurts the most.

As Louis falls asleep, his head tipping lazily against Harry’s shoulder, Harry almost sighs in relief. He knows it’s not conventional, the way he and Louis intertwine, physically, emotionally, and mentally, but he’s never cared to question it before. Right now he lets the thought drift slowly, like a thick fog trying to slip into every last corner of his mind. If two inches between them makes him feel like he’s drowning, what will it feel like when Louis is hours away? When Louis is in London creating a whole new life without him in it? He thinks about his mother’s words, _what if it’s for the best?_

What if Louis and him have grown too close, too wrapped up in their own bubble to let anyone else in? Is he really prepared to sacrifice the prospect of a proper relationship or a family because of Louis? But then he huffs silently to himself, contempt spreading through him at the thought of the norms and conventions that tell him that those things are worth more, are regarded as more valuable or real, than what he and Louis has. Because he knows it’s utter bullshit. Knows that no matter if he falls in love, no one will ever be able to take Louis’ place. And he doesn’t want them to either. Louis _is_ his family in every way that counts. The thought that Louis so carelessly seemed to ignore that sinks into him like a sickness.

-

Harry has barely slept all night, his mind too occupied with the way Louis has turned everything upside down. He hears Louis scramble out from his bedroom where Harry left him last night, making his way into the bathroom like he always does first thing in the morning. He listens to the muffled sound of Louis shuffling around, the kind of background noise that’s as much part of Harry’s morning routine as the way he makes his own tea. Eventually Louis makes his way into the kitchen, eyes still swollen with sleep and hair matted down against his head.

“Morning,” he grumbles, his voice deep in a way it never manages to be at any other time of the day.

“Hi,” Harry answers as he watches Louis pour himself water from the kettle.

“Thanks for helping me to bed last night; fell asleep like a baby,” Louis says and smiles a little sheepishly, hand scratching over his stomach as he leans against the counter, tea steeping in his favourite cup.

“No worries,” Harry says quietly, trying not to be bitter over Louis’ good night’s sleep.

Louis sits down and pulls out the iPad they keep in the drawer underneath the table, presumably to read the morning paper.

“So… have you thought any more about the job offer?” Harry tries to sound casual about it while both of them know this conversation is anything but. The last couple of days of crippling tension having made that clear.

“Not really to be honest, I mean… I’ve got till the 29th to get back to them so…” Louis says without looking up from the iPad and Harry just stares at him blankly, because he’s sure Louis has thought of little else.

“What are you waiting for then?” Harry asks and it comes out sounding a lot more passive aggressive and awkward than he means it to.

Louis looks up at him, lips pursed and brows furrowed, obviously bothered by Harry’s tone. “I don’t know… I mean, I thought I’d talk to you about it but you’ve been sort of avoiding me so…”

“Why would you need to talk to me now? You didn’t seem to need that before,” Harry bites and Louis flinches. Maybe it’s still too early in the day for Harry’s temper, but he finds himself unable to put his feelings aside.

“Haz, I _told you_ it wasn’t like that and I’m sorry, I really am but… I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“I want you to explain why you didn’t think it was important to talk to me about it. How did you even come to that conclusion in the first place?” It’s obvious Harry has had this conversation running through his mind all night, throwing himself into it while Louis has barely woken up yet.

“What…?” Louis looks so lost right now but Harry decides to just barrel on.

“Like… we’ve lived together for fourteen years and you didn’t think I’d want to know that you’re even _thinking_ of moving? You never brought it up even once! And you _must’ve_ thought about it, at least like, you didn’t even consider how this would affect me? Or did you expect me to just leave everything and come with? What about my shops, what about _my_ life _?_ Sure I get it, it’s your dream job and you couldn’t resist but what about me, what about my job? Isn’t that important to you at all?”

“Wait, wait a minute, Jesus—I’m… _of course_ I don’t expect you to leave your job, I know how much it means to you.”

“Then what? You’re just gonna leave? Like it’s nothing, like us living together means nothing?” Harry’s fears bubble up to the surface and he feels tears burn in his eyes, clogging up his throat as he tries to swallow it all down.

He’s not sure how to describe the look on Louis’ face but it makes his heart ache painfully. “Of course it means something to me, why would you even say something like that?”

“Maybe because you’re acting like it doesn’t!”

“Everything isn’t black and white, you know,” Louis says, apparently starting to become awake enough to put his defenses up.

“Maybe it is to me. Maybe I don’t understand how you can say that you don’t want me to come with you, but living with me still means something to you. I really don’t see it.”

“Oh, for fucks sake, Harry!” Louis explodes in a huff of frustration, his northern accent thick.

“What!? You really don’t think I have a point?”

“ _No,_ because you’re my best friend and _of course_ living with you means something to me but like, we’re not a fucking couple, we should be able to make our own decisions shouldn’t we?!”

Louis’ words feel like a punch in his gut and pinpricks of heat travel up his cheeks. An ugly mix of anger and humiliation settles in his stomach.

“What is that supposed to mean? You think… you think I’m pulling some sort of ‘controlling boyfriend’ act on you? Is that what you think this is? Because let me tell you, this isn’t me wanting to be your fucking boyfriend or whatever you’re implying, this is me respecting our fucking life together because whether you’ve noticed or not, we have one!” He’s trembling with anger, tears blurring his vision.

Louis stares at him in horror for a few moments before his whole face crumbles. “Oh fuck, no, _no,_ of course...” He chokes up and has to swallow before continuing. “Fuck, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that, I promise. Of course we…” His voice breaks and a few tears fall down his cheeks. “I’m sorry, I’ve fucked up so much, you’re like… _of course_ we have life together I just…”

“Then I don’t know why you’re trying to make me feel like I’m just some irrational jealous arsehole? Like, I’ve lived with you since I was seventeen and I’m honestly not sure how I could make it without you, that’s not… that’s got nothing to do with some fucking—”

“I know, I know, god Haz…” Louis stands up abruptly and rounds the table, pulling Harry to his chest. He resists for a few futile moments before curling his arms around Louis’ waist. Because even if Louis is the reason he’s upset right now, no one has ever been able to comfort him the way Louis does. “I just keep fucking up, I’m sorry… I hate fighting with you, I know it’s my fault but I can barely fucking _think_ when you’re mad at me.”

“I hate it too, I just don’t… I hate feeling like you’re taking me for granted or like not… not appreciating our friendship…” he chokes out, tears wetting Louis’ t-shirt.

“I _do_ , I promise I’m not taking you for granted, I just made a stupid fucking mistake and now it’s blowing up in my face. I’m so sorry, I never… I know I should’ve talked to you about it. I just genuinely never thought they’d offer me the job and I let my own insecurities get in the way instead of being honest with you,” he rests his cheek atop of Harry’s head, his hands rubbing carefully up and down his back, comforting them both in the process. They stay like that for a while, letting their breaths even out slightly.

“Can we just… take it easy today? I’m bloody exhausted,” Harry asks as he pulls away from their embrace, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand.

“Of course, sweetheart,” Louis coos softly, most likely feeling guilty about Harry’s tired state.

Harry stands up to head into the living room, thinking a good nap in front of the TV might be exactly what he needs. Louis says something about making breakfast but then before Harry has even made onto the sofa, Louis’ finger curl around his wrist, stopping him.

“Hey Haz…” he says and waits for Harry to turn around and face him. “You know you’re my favourite person in the whole world right? Nothing’s ever gonna change that.”

And _god,_ leave it up to Louis to see right through him, to pick up on the one thing in their conversation that hurts the most, that digs the deepest.

He nods slightly, biting his bottom lip. “I know, just please don’t shut me out like that again, I can’t stand it.”

Louis reaches out to caress his cheek, palm warm against his tear stained skin. “I won’t, I’m sorry.”

Once Louis has made them a proper breakfast they curl up together on the sofa again, no longer two inches apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave kudos or a comment if you enjoyed ❤
> 
> You can also find me on [tumblr.](http://gaycousinlarry.tumblr.com/)
> 
> And here's a tumblr post if you want to [reblog.](http://gaycousinlarry.tumblr.com/post/163322277488/remind-me-again-written-by-momentofclarity) Thank you!


	3. Chapter 3

Louis’ fingers curl around the steaming cup of tea as he waits for Liam to turn up to the café. Liam had called yesterday, wondering if him and Harry had time to meet up for a cuppa the next day, but since Harry was busy crunching numbers or whatever it is business owners get down to, Liam had to settle for him.

“Hi! Sorry I’m late, mate!” Liam greets him and pulls him into a one armed hug since Louis doesn’t get up from his seat.

“Yeah, a whole minute, don’t know why I’m even friends with you anymore.” He grins and pats Liam a tad bit too harshly on the cheek. Liam darts back but gives him a small smile.

After getting a cup of coffee, Liam sits down at the table and Louis studies him amusedly. He’s fidgeting and he’s definitely not self aware enough to notice. He keeps moving back and forth on his seat, gaze traveling over the surroundings while he bites at a fingernail. It’s not until his eyes get stuck on Louis and Louis lifts a teasing eyebrow at him that he stops, cheeks growing pink immediately.

“What?”

“You’re fidgeting,” Louis provides calmly, lips curving into a smirk, already highly entertained not even ten minutes into their coffee date.

“I’m not—I’m… god stop staring at me like that, no wonder I’m fidgeting!” Liam exclaims and scowls at him, making Louis burst out in laughter.

“Oh god, this will be good. What’s up?” Louis asks, ignoring Liam’s accusations.

Liam rolls his eyes but sighs, already giving up under Louis’ scrutinizing gaze. He picks up a napkin and starts shredding it into small pieces. “Okay so… it’s about Sam. You know, the guy I’ve been sort of seeing?”

“Of course I know, what about him?” Louis asks, his teasing giving way to what he hopes is a more gentle smile. Liam obviously cares a lot about this bloke and he won’t give him a hard time about it. Not more than necessary anyways.

“Okay so, I… I just don’t know if it’s gonna work out and I don’t… I feel a bit shit about it to be honest,” he says and looks up at Louis with round puppy eyes, like Louis is going to come in and make it all alright. Louis’ heart clenches slightly at the sight because Liam honestly deserves the world. The fact that he very clearly reached out to talk about this makes it even more endearing since Liam isn’t the most comfortable discussing his feelings. It’s definitely gotten better since the divorce when he was sort of forced to deal with it, but it’s obvious he still struggles at times.

“Why do you say that? Did something happen?” Louis asks, hoping to god this Sam character didn’t do anything to hurt his friend.

Liam shrugs a bit. “Not really, I mean… it’s just that… I sort of forgot how hard it is? I mean, I haven’t dated for nearly ten years and I feel so out of the loop.”

“What’s so tricky about it?” Louis asks, frowning in concern.

“Everything! Like—I still don’t know if he’s even into me! I feel like I’m just trying and trying and sometimes it seems like he’s on the same page but then just… nothing.”

Louis sits up a little straighter in his seat, leaning his arms on the table. “Okay so, give me an example, what do you mean, ‘you’re trying?’”

“Well, I did what you said last week. I asked him out to Olivier’s, right? And he seemed really happy about it, but then when we went there the other night it was just… so weird and I couldn’t tell if he even knew it was a date? Like I felt like I was sitting there on a date with this perfect guy and he’s just going on and on about his kid and his job and he barely even asked me anything and we never talked about anything that wasn’t like… other than what mates talk about you know?” Liam rambles so quickly he’s a little breathless by the end of it.

“Oh that’s… I mean, he must be really daft if he thinks it’s normal to take mates to Olivier’s? That’s like, don’t they even have that live band playing romantic songs?” Louis asks.

“Yes! And lit candles and everything! So I feel like I’ve just done everything I can without actually asking him if he’s into me and I’m not even sure I feel like doing that at all now,” Liam says and pouts slightly. How this Sam dude hasn't caught up on how adorable Liam is, is kind of beyond Louis really.

“Okay so… let’s not get ahead of ourselves yeah?” Louis says and reaches over the table to nudge Liam’s arm encouragingly. “Maybe… maybe he was nervous and that’s why he kept blabbering?”

“I don’t know, I was literally shitting my pants and I still didn’t act like that.”

Louis can’t help but crack a smile. “Well, if you were literally shitting your pants, maybe that explains it!”

Liam rolls his eyes again and huffs, but Louis still catches the smile twitching over his lips. “You know what I mean.”

“Yeah just… you know what mate, I totally get it if you just want to let it go, it’s fine you know? It’s the first person you’ve been interested in since Cathy and it’s fine if you need some more time before like, throwing yourself at the world, yeah? But… you seem to really like him…” Louis trails off slightly and Liam nods. “So maybe it’s worth talking to him about it? And if it doesn’t work out, then fuck him.”

“Maybe it’s just me, I mean, I haven’t dated blokes since before Cathy, maybe I just don’t come across as… gay enough? Maybe he just thinks I’m straight and into nothing but beer, sports, and birds.”

Louis laughs at that, finding Liam’s description of straight men highly entertaining. “Trust me babe, the way you look when you talk about this guy’s ‘unbelievable body’, he’d have to be blind not to see it when it’s right in front of him.”

“It’s just different. It feels like it’s easier for you because you’ve never been with a woman.” Liam shrugs and Louis laughs again, this time on the wrong side of obnoxious.

“Wouldn’t be so sure of that,” he says and his stomach ties in knots when he thinks of the mess he’s made of his own private life. “I’m just saying, it might be worth taking a chance, if you really like him.”

“Yeah maybe,” Liam agrees, still not convinced but clearly contemplating it.

-

On the way home Louis considers if there’s any truth to Liam’s words, or if it’s just the way Louis has always been. If he’s honest he can’t recall ever having the same sort of issues that Liam’s describing but he thinks it’s more about the fact that he’s usually very up front about what he wants. On the other hand, it doesn’t seem to be his dating life he’s struggling with lately…

During their chat, Louis had contemplated talking to Liam about the situation with Harry and his major fuck up but somehow it doesn’t seem right, almost too private, like it’s something he has to work out with Harry alone. Yesterday had been nice, him and Harry cuddling on the sofa all day, but he could tell Harry was still upset when they went to bed. He’d tried to comfort him by holding him close, by whispering silly jokes in his ear to make him giggle, but once the moment had passed Harry always went back to tense shoulders and a slight frown.

Louis' just not sure how to move forward now, somehow ridiculously scared to even bring the job offer up, and the worst thing is he’s not even entirely sure of exactly why they’re fighting. If fighting is even what they’re doing. He knows Harry's upset that he didn’t tell him about the application or the interview; knows he was upset that Louis hadn’t thought it all through, and now Louis has to make a decision that will greatly affect Harry too.

He thinks about the look on Harry’s face when he’d made the “we’re not a couple” comment and he almost feels sick. He’d obviously hurt him a lot by reducing their relationship like that. Like Harry wasn’t worth his consideration just because they aren’t _together_. For a moment, he almost envies Liam’s situation because somehow that seems so easily solvable, so black and white, either we’re dating or we’re not.

He’s not sure logic like that works with him and Harry. If it ever has. He knows he’s made a mistake. A mistake that wasn’t ever his intention of making, was just a sign of his lack of self-esteem and thoughtlessness, but that now has opened up a rift between him and Harry. Something he doesn’t know how to put words to and several times over the last few days it’s hit him that he’s never _had_ _to_ put words to anything between Harry and him before. They have always just coexisted, side by side, together without disruption.

And maybe that’s where the issue lies.

They never even talked about moving in together all those years ago; it just sort of happened. Louis had gotten his own flat and after Harry’s first visit, he had just never left. There had never been any question as to whether that’s what they both wanted. It just was. The same unquestionable way they started looking for a new flat together a few years later once they could afford it. When another couple of years down the line they found the flat they now share, Louis’ then boyfriend, Dev, had not been happy about it. He’d been pissed off over the fact that rather than wait until it was time for him and Louis to move in together, Louis had chosen to find a new flat with Harry. Of course, Louis had found that awfully presumptuous and made damn sure Dev knew exactly how he felt about it.

He feels so fucking stupid when he thinks about it all now. How he could possibly do something like this without considering how Harry would feel? But then he’s right back to the thought that had caused Harry to look like he’d punched him in the gut.

_We’re not a couple._

He doesn’t know why that should matter, but then he also thinks about the way he’d never take Niall, Liam, or Nick into account when it came to moving to another city. On the other hand he hasn’t lived with any of them for the past fourteen years, hasn’t shared all his thoughts and fears with them, hasn’t sought comfort in their arms or laughed together till the early morning. He never took care of them through a 40° C fever, when their curls dripped with sweat, and never had to go through the utter humiliation and gratitude of them cleaning up after him when he’d caught the nastiest stomach bug known to man. Never held them after a panic attack, pressing reassuring kisses along the back of their necks. Never shared the experience of having their flat flooded when the pipes broke in the middle of winter. Never shared breakfast at 5.30 in the morning or dinner at 11.30 at night. Never shared all those things you share with someone you live with, someone you share your life with through the good and the bad.

Because they’re not Harry. And that’s what he and Harry do.

As he’s made his way home he’s completely overwhelmed by the mess in his head. He feels like he’s put himself in a situation so difficult he has no idea what he’s supposed to do about it. He knows somewhere that the _logical, sensible_ thing to do is accept the job offer because he might not ever get another shot like this, especially not at Malkin & Bots.

But the thought of _actually, physically_ moving away from Harry feels so terrifying he’s not sure he’d be capable of doing it. His entire adult life has consisted of Harry, as well as a large chunk of his childhood. How is he supposed to move on from that? How is he supposed to give up his safe place, his comfort and his home?

Harry seems to be done with work as he’s gone back to bed with a cuppa and his iPad perched on his lap. Louis hovers at the door to Harry’s room and he feels silly with how the sight of Harry makes his eyes burn. His hair is messy and a bit dirty, reading glasses he stole from his own mum perched on his nose, and he’s wearing threadbare joggers matched with a ridiculous _But I’m a Cheerleader_ t-shirt he got at uni. The sight of him still makes something ache in Louis.

Since Harry isn’t completely unaware of his surroundings, he notices Louis after a couple of minutes and a curious frown matched with a small smile blooms over his face.

“Hey, what are you creepin’ about?” he asks, his voice deep with disuse.

Louis shrugs and bites his bottom lip before slowly trudging over towards the bed.

“Did anything happen with Liam?” Harry asks and now there’s a hint of actual worry in his voice.

“He’ll be fine, just having some boy trouble,” Louis says and sits down on the bed.

If he’s honest, Liam is the last thing on his mind right now. He feels sad, like he’s ruined something precious, and all he wants is for Harry to hold him even though it’s all his own fault.

“Oh, that sucks. Is it that Sam guy?” Harry asks as he puts his iPad and glasses down on the nightstand.

“Yeah, Liam took him to Olivier’s and it didn’t go so well, but hopefully it’ll work out,” Louis says, eyes fixed on the duvet.

“Aww poor Lima, I’m sorry I couldn’t come with today.” Harry pouts but there’s a warm glint in his eyes as he nudges Louis’ thigh with his bare foot.

“Can I stay here? Are you busy?” Louis asks because he can’t pretend to care about Liam’s problems at the moment, his own worries making his head crowded enough as it is.

“No, was just reading, come here,” Harry says and slides down on the bed until he’s resting against the pillow, opening his arms for Louis.

Louis can’t help the sigh of relief that escapes him when Harry’s long arms wrap around him and he presses his nose into Harry’s chest.

“You’re not feeling well?” Harry asks and kisses his forehead.

He shakes his head. “No, I feel like the shittiest, most awful person ever,” he whines and his fingers curl into the fabric of Harry’s shirt, pulling him even closer.

“Hey, no, don’t talk like that about my best friend,” Harry says and he chuckles a bit, trying to lighten the mood.

“I just feel like I’ve put us in this position and I didn’t even think it through, how stupid is that? Like… who even does something like that?” He stubbornly blinks at the burning in his eyes.

Harry takes a deep breath, as if he’s recharging himself before answering. “Well, it is what it is now so we’re going to have to figure this out aren’t we?”

“I don’t want to.”

And they don’t, at least not for the moment. Harry slides down even further on the bed and turns to the side so they’re facing each other. Louis can’t count how many times they’ve lain like this, just staring at each other as they read each other’s thoughts. From the first few months of their friendship, when they were just kids talking about the tree house they wanted to build in Louis’ backyard. As teens, when Harry told Louis he fancied boy in a nervous whisper and Louis nearly broke down in tears of relief because he wasn’t alone. In their twenties, when they talked about what they wanted for the future and which places around the world they wanted to see. Now, they're in their thirties and nothing seems to have changed, except for the world around them.

Harry’s eyes look soft and tired, like he’s past the point of being upset with Louis and just wants things to work themselves out. Louis agrees, he never meant to turn their stomachs into knots or for their brows to furrow the way they have since he came home and told Harry the news. He tries to say he’s sorry and Harry’s eyes crinkle up slightly at the corners.

He can’t lose this.

Louis leans forward and pushes his lips softly to Harry’s, wanting to show him how sorry he is, how much he loves and cherishes what they have.

They exchange soft pecks and small smiles for a little while, enjoying how silly it feels for two grown men to kiss like this. Louis reaches up and caresses over Harry cheek, thumb brushing over his cheekbone, trailing the movement with his eyes. When he leans in again Harry answers his kiss, so sure and steady Louis would almost believe him if it wasn’t for the way his fingers dig into Louis’ side. They fall together like they have so many times before, soft and warm and wet as their mouths slide together and something settles in Louis. _Home_. His worrying thoughts and heavy feelings drift away with Harry’s thumb pressing into his hip and his teeth nibbling at his lips. It’s so achingly familiar his chest fills with warm cotton and his ears with the calm rush of ocean waves.

As he pulls away and looks into Harry’s eyes he’s hit with a desperate surge of affection and longing, like he’s already missing him. He can’t help his fingers sliding into Harry’s short strands at the back of his neck and he crushes his lips into Harry’s to tell him just that. _You can never be further away than this because you will be missing from me._

He tilts his head slightly to the side, his lips brushing over day old scruff, as Harry brings his leg up over Louis’ hip to pull him closer and that’s the moment when something just… _shifts._

Louis’ lips slide over Harry’s jaw, his breath hot against Harry’s ear and Harry shudders against him. It’s something so small but somehow it’s worlds apart from anything they have ever done before, different than their innocent, comforting snogs.

They still for a few seconds; Louis’ heart rabbits in his chest. Another few moments later he carefully wets his lips before his hand presses against Harry’s stomach and he captures Harry’s earlobe between his teeth. His mind is nothing but a heavy fog and everything is quiet around them; their breaths impossibly loud. When he flicks his tongue out against Harry’s pulse point, his heartbeat thuds heavily his throat, and Harry’s next breath comes out as an airy moan. Goosebumps erupt down Louis’ neck and before he can _think_ about what he’s doing he pushes his hand up under Harry’s shirt, his skin warm and somehow new beneath his fingers.

Harry is so still under him and Louis just—he needs so desperately not to be alone in this, so he gives it another tentative try. His lips travel down the side of Harry’s throat before he pushes close enough to softly bite into the thick muscle where Harry’s neck meets his shoulder. He was right. The bite makes the stillness in Harry’s limbs jump into action, his hands clutch onto Louis’ waist and pull him closer as he lets out another moan into the thick air between them.

Louis’ fingers brush over a nipple, already drawn tight, and there’s something so incredibly _thrilling_ about that, the way Harry’s body is already responding to him. He does it again, brushes his thumb against the hard nub and he can hear Harry’s breath catch in his throat. Louis’ not sure he himself is breathing anymore.

“Lou…” Harry whimpers out, so soft and pleading it makes Louis’ head spin.

He looks down at Harry, tries to read his eyes to see if Harry is begging him to stop or continue. Harry stares back at him, eyes a whirlwind of emotion. Desperation, challenge, and thousand questions shoot back at Louis as Harry’s hands grab hold of the hem of Louis’ t-shirt. He starts to drag it up slowly, only breaking eye contact when Louis sits back to pull it up over his head. Harry looks at him, eyes flitting over his naked torso. They've seen each other shirtless countless times, but it's never been like this and Louis’ heart can’t seem to slow down. Louis tries to clear his head, tries to understand what is happening but it seems impossible to get past the silent agreement they’re making in this moment.

_We’re doing this._

Harry shifts his hips under Louis, pressing a thigh up between Louis’ legs. When he feels Harry’s hardening cock press up against him, his own cock jumps with the blood flowing into it, filling him up against Harry’s hip. He falls forwards, unable to stop himself any longer, and catches Harry’s lips with his. What they’re doing is absolutely insane, but for some reason he’s so desperate to touch.

Then it’s a flurry of hands pulling at their clothes. Harry’s shirt gets thrown somewhere behind Louis’ back and then Harry’s big hand finds its way into the back of Louis’ jeans, fingers sneaking beneath the waistband of Louis’ pants. They kiss urgently, tongues wet and hot against each other.

Harry scrambles away suddenly and Louis looks at him in alarm, but then Harry meets his eyes and there’s a question there that goes together with his hands tugging at the waistband of his own joggers. Louis’ mouth goes dry, he nods imperceptibly and then Harry is pulling his joggers and pants off hurriedly. Louis averts his eyes because all of a sudden there’s _so much_ naked Harry _right there._ To distract himself he falls back on the bed, his hands shaking as he drags his tight jeans off together with his underwear. Once he’s done and lies back down on his back, Harry hovers over him, one hand traveling up Louis’ naked thigh, thumb pressing into the thick muscle. His green eyes are hazy as they follow the movement.

Harry has barely touched him and he’s so turned on already. That in and of itself is such a disorienting concept, because this is _Harry._ But Harry is gorgeous like this. Eyes wide and pupils blown, a light sheen of sweat already covering his forehead. His throat bobs as he swallows before leaning down to kiss Louis again, this time slow but deep, teeth catching on Louis’ bottom lip before his tongue dips into Louis waiting mouth. Want sips like sparks of electricity up Louis’ spine, his stomach curls with heat and he lets his hands wander over Harry’s skin as Harry’s hand gets closer and closer to where his arousal throbs between his legs.

Harry’s fingers brush against his hard cock as he leans down to rest his head against Louis’ neck. His wet breath spreads another eruption of goosebumps over Louis chest; his nipples harden at the sensation.

“Can… can I…” Harry’s voice trembles and Louis nods, gripping Harry’s hair to pull him even closer.

“Whatever you want,” Louis gasps out and Harry’s hand wraps around his cock.

Pleasure shoots through him like firecrackers. Sparks of heat make him gasp for air as Harry’s hand moves over him. His thumb rubs at the frenulum before sliding over the head of his cock, catching a bead of precome at the slit. Harry's big hand is tight and warm around him and Louis searches desperately to feel Harry the same way. Harry’s cock hangs heavy between them and Louis mouth waters at the feeling of him; skin drawn tight but so smooth and hot against the palm of Louis’ hand.

They begin to jerk each other off, Harry leaning over Louis as they breathe into each others mouths, tongues darting out to taste.

“Feels so good.” Harry breathes heavily and Louis agrees.

“Yeah, so good, babe.”

Harry seems to get greedy after a while, his tongue delving deeper into Louis’ mouth and he reaches down to squeeze carefully at Louis’ balls. He moans while doing it like feeling the weight of Louis in his hand is making _him_ hot, and that sends Louis’ head spinning all over again. It feels incredible to have Harry’s hands on him like this, strong sure hands and deft fingers. He loses himself in it for a bit, finding it hard to focus on anything but the way Harry touches him.

Harry’s hand leaves him but before he has the time to protest, Harry has put two fingers in his own mouth and Louis can’t _breathe._ It’s so overwhelming to see Harry like this, wet and slick, heavy and musky around him and it just. It makes Louis greedy too.

Since he can’t tear his eyes away from where Harry sloppily wets his own fingers, Louis reaches the hand not occupied by Harry’s cock, to the swell of Harry’s bum. He has obviously always known Harry is fit, but the muscle under his hand is so firm and delicious it makes Louis’ groin pulse with heat. Harry pulls his fingers from his mouth and reaches down between Louis’ legs, again massaging Louis balls in his palm like he’s trying to fucking _coax_ the come out of him, it’s maddening. Then he extends his wet fingers even further down, pressing against Louis’ perineum, making Louis’ cock jump against where it’s leaking onto his stomach. He’s so fucking close and he desperately searches for Harry’s mouth again, trying to coordinate his own hands into making this as good for Harry as it is for him. The fingers between his legs start moving in circles, closer and closer to Louis’ hole and he feels his whole body draw tight.

“Jesus fucking _Christ,_ I’m so close,” he grinds out.

“Me too, fuck Lou, you’re so fucking hot like this, god just, please come for me, come on,” Harry breathes against his cheek.

Louis can’t hold back any longer and reaches down to pull at his own cock, desperately chasing the release that’s built up in his body. When Harry’s fingers finally circle over Louis’ hole, the tip of one dipping inside at the same time as Louis’ squeezes on the upstroke, pleasure overtakes him down from the tips of his toes to where he throws his head back against the pillows. He comes in hot pulses over his fist and belly.

He knows he’s being loud and so is Harry, groaning at the sight and pushing Louis’ hand off of his own cock to pull himself off quickly. When he comes his face goes slack and a strained moan escapes his throat, his body jerking in the aftershocks of it.

As they both come down from their orgasms, it’s like a cloud of cotton has surrounded them. Making everything soft and slightly muted, so slow and a bit… to the left of reality. Harry goes to wet a flannel and hands it over to him with a small kiss on his shoulder. They don’t talk, too slow and hazy to do anything but get cleaned up, before they wrap around each other under Harry’s sheets, Louis’ lips pressed to Harry’s temple.

-

Louis stumbles up from Harry’s bed and into the bathroom after his alarm rudely wakes him up at six am. It’s not until the hot water of the shower cascades down his back that the reality of last night hits him, as if the foggy softness of sleep is washed down the drain. His heart starts beating rapidly in his chest and his belly clenches with worry. What the fuck did he just do? Did he just make an even bigger mess? What if Harry wakes up and hates him because he, yet again, tried to make them about something that they’re not? Will he think Louis was trying to manipulate him? Or… Okay. He needs to calm down and not let the apocalypse into every last corner of his mind.

As he makes his morning tea he glances at the clock and knows he should be on his way to work within twenty minutes. He also knows Harry’s alarm won’t go off until seven because it’s Monday. The idea of leaving without talking to Harry or at least saying ‘good morning’ makes him sick so he sends an e-mail to one of his co-workers saying he’ll be in a little later than usual.

He tries to focus on his tea and nibbling on a piece of dry toast, but he’s really worried about what happened between them last night. It feels almost surreal, like ever since he got the job offer nearly a week ago his life has been spinning out of control. He made a stupid mistake and it’s caused his favourite person in the world to doubt his commitment to their friendship and last night’s events might just set another tornado off into their shared flat. He’s so wrapped up in his own head that he doesn’t hear Harry come out into the kitchen.

“Oh, you’re still here,” Harry says, voice deep from sleep, and Louis startles slightly as he looks up at him. He’s pulled on the same pair of joggers as he wore yesterday. Yesterday before he pulled them off and—no. Stop.

“Yeah, I didn’t wanna…” he says and then hesitates, doesn’t know how to word it without making it worse than it already is. “I didn’t want to just leave...”

He looks up at Harry, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. Out of all the reactions he’s expecting, a smile is at the bottom of the list. It’s small and wavering but it’s there.

“You didn’t wanna hump me and dump me?”

Louis can’t help the snort that escapes him. “ _Jesus Christ.”_ He falls forward onto the kitchen table, face hidden in his arms as relief washes over him. At least Harry doesn’t seem angry. That however still doesn’t help the fact that his face is burning at Harry’s bluntness. It’s seven in the morning for God’s sake.

Harry huffs quietly and sits down at the table. “Sorry.”

He looks up at Harry, trying to come up with what to say next. He’s never felt this lost when talking to his best friend. “I just… I wanted to make sure we’re okay?”

It’s quiet for a few moments while Harry contemplates the question. Then he shrugs and shakes his head slightly. “I’m not sure I’m awake enough to answer that.” His dimple flashes fleetingly over his cheek, as if their awkwardness amuses him.

Louis, on the other hand, feels two seconds from breaking down in tears. “I just… you’re my best friend, I don’t want you to think anything about last night changes that.”

“I think…” Harry starts in that typical Harry way that means the next few words will come out slow and pensive. “I think we might… like maybe we didn’t think things through last night, yeah?” He looks to Louis for confirmation and Louis shakes his head. “But things don’t have to… maybe we should just, take some time to do that. To think.”

“Yeah…” Louis says, not entirely sure what Harry means.

“Just figure out what we want for ourselves and for… us?”

Louis wants to yell at him, tell him all he wants is for things to be normal and for him to have not fucked everything up, but he also knows he needs to give an answer to Malkin & Bots within the next five days. So. Maybe that’s exactly what they need to do.

“Look I’ll… I’ll go to Niall’s after work, maybe spend the night there? Just so we can… yeah.”

This conversation feels like it got out of Louis’ hands from the second it started, like he can’t keep up as Harry comes up with the answers.

“Sure, yeah,” he agrees without knowing if he means it. He wants to talk to Harry, not run from him, but if this is what Harry needs not to tell Louis to fuck off to eternity and back, then that’s what he’ll do.

He cleans off the table and makes his way out into the hallway, getting ready to leave.

“Hey, give me a call later, alright?” Harry says, leaning against the doorframe that leads into the kitchen.

“Of course,” he says and tries to not show how relieved he is.

“I’m not trying to be dramatic or anything with this I’m just… we’ll talk later okay?” Harry says and his lips are twisted in a self-deprecating smile.

Louis regards him for a few moments before he sighs heavily and trots over to him. He reaches up and pulls Harry down for a hug.

“You’re always trying to be dramatic, you’re kidding no one, Styles.” He smirks into Harry’s shoulder and Harry just squeezes him harder.

Louis can’t help but press his nose into Harry’s skin and there’s still something lingering there from last night, something that smells like Harry but tenfold. He’s not sure how to feel about the way it sends a dull throb down between his legs.

Maybe some time apart will do them good.

-

He’s been staring at the same blue prints for almost an hour but he can’t seem to find the answers he’s looking for. Maybe because the answers have nothing to do with a block of flats and more to do with the fact that he slept with his best friend last night. Did Harry even like it? Does it matter? Of course it matters but… why? The fact that he _wanted_ Harry in that moment, let Harry pull those surely embarrassing noises from his lips.

He’d laugh at his own predicament if it wasn’t for the fact that he’s the one who has to deal with it. What started as a job offer has turned into something so different and unsettling that the decision he has to make before Friday seem like years and years away. Like before then he has to climb mountains and swim through entire oceans.

And to think he called Harry dramatic just this morning.

At lunch he receives a text from Harry that makes him roll his eyes while his cheeks heat up.

_So we had sex last night._

As if he just realised and couldn’t wait for Louis to confirm this mind-boggling concept.

**_it appears we did_ **

_Not sure how I feel about it_

**_me neither_ **

_Do you regret it?_

**_im not answering that_ **

_Why not? :(_

**_bc we’re supposed to be grown ups and we’re not having this conversation while using emojis_ **

_:(  
I hate feeling weird about us_

**_me too  
maybe we can talk tonight?_ **

_Yeah, call me when you get home from work?_

**_I will  
love you_ **

_Love you too_

Louis puts away his phone and tries not to think about it for the next few hours.

He’s not very successful.

-

He forces himself to make dinner and change his clothes before he settles on the sofa to call Harry. If he’s honest, he wanted to call Harry as soon as he left the office, because even if they saw each other this morning, the turmoil between them makes Harry feel too far away and he misses him already. Harry picks up on the second signal.

“Hiya,” he greets and Louis hears him close a door, presumably seeking some privacy while staying at Niall’s.

“Hey babe, how are you?” Louis asks and his cheeks heat up as he recalls the way he used the same pet name the night before.

“Umm… a little unnerved if I’m honest,” Harry says and Louis imagines him settling down on the guestroom bed.

“Yeah me too…” He hesitates. “I don’t even know how to start this conversation.” His stomach hurts a bit just admitting it.

Harry seems to hesitate for a few seconds before he starts talking. “Well, I’ve been thinking and… I think the thing for me is, I don’t… I’m not sure why last night happened,” Harry says and sounds as if he’s searching for the right words to use.

“I know, me neither. And I feel like it was my fault and I feel so guilty about it.” Louis winces at his own unease.

“How do you mean guilty? It’s not like I didn’t want—it’s not like I wasn’t part of it.”

“You just got so upset when I said that thing about not being a couple and then… then I go and like… I feel like I’m being shitty and contradictory and I don’t even mean to be… and I’m so confused but also… not really, because nothing has really changed has it? It’s still us, it’s still just you and me but now it’s all… messy.”

There’s silence on the line for a few moments, the quiet sound of their breaths mingling through their phones. “I think maybe we should… fuck this is hard but like…” Harry sighs heavily. “What are we even talking about here? I feel like we’re—we’re not talking about… like what do you even mean by ‘messy?’”

The thing is, Louis is not even sure. All he knows is that things seem a lot more complicated than they did a week ago. “I mean… for the first time I don’t know what you want or… m-maybe I’ve just realised that I never even asked?” Louis rambles and stammers through the words, not even knowing where he’s heading. “That I just assumed you—that we—”

“Hey, calm down… but I think… maybe you’re right though? About the… how we never did talk about… us,” Harry says. Louis is kind of glad he's fumbling through his words too.

They grow quiet again, neither wanting to take the first step, to take responsibility for where this conversation will lead them.

Harry turns out to be the brave one. “I just don’t want us to… I don’t want you to feel like…” A frustrated sigh escapes him. “I mean, why did we even sleep together? We’ve never done anything like that before and now all of a sudden it’s like… did we even really want to do that or was it just overcompensating for us fighting or something?”

Louis feels a bit struck with how many actual constructive thoughts Harry seems to have been able to conjure over the past day. Especially in contrast to himself who spent half the time trying to _not think_ about Harry’s hand between his legs.

“I don’t… know,” is what he’s able to get out at first. “All I know is you’re the most important person in my life and I don’t want to fuck us up, I don’t want us to… change.”

“Me neither, but what if we have to?”

Louis hums an answer because even though Harry might be right, he’s not sure he’s ready to admit it. Their conversation dwindles down not long after and when they hang up Louis feels like their talk only led to even more questions. Somehow he’s set this whole thing into motion, like no matter where they go from here things will never be quite the same. If he says no to the job offer they would still have to work through how to not end up here again. They've been fine until now, comfortable in their unspoken agreement, but what will happen when one of them gets another job offer or finds someone and falls in love for real?

If he takes the job they will need to talk about how they want to deal with that, both together and on their own. How will they cope with moving apart? Will it even be worth it, even for Louis who’s got his dream job waiting?

All he knows is that he will never forgive himself is this is the thing that tears them apart.

-

Two days go by and he feels like he’s hanging in the air, a few meters above the ground, waiting for a drop that won’t kill him but will sure as hell hurt. Harry has been… it’s like they have come to a stalemate, like they both now that they will have to deal with this, and soon, but they would just rather wait until the next day. They have texted while at work and watched TV together last night but it was quiet. Quiet and muted and Louis hated it, so much that the thought of another night like that makes him jump on a bus in the wrong direction after work. He texts Nick asking if he can stop by and Nick sends him a thumbs up.

He knows Nick can tell something is off from the second he enters the flat, Nick’s expression almost instantly morphs into something between worry and suspicion.

“So, what brings me the pleasure of seeing your precious face on a dull Wednesday night?” Nick pulls him into a hug.

Louis huffs but returns the hug. “Had to get out of the flat,” he says, highly aware of how dramatic it sounds but it’s no less true anyways.

“Oh ouch, is Harry aware you’re in a rut or is it just you?”

And maybe it was a bad idea coming here, because Nick sees right through him. Even if he doesn’t know exactly what’s going on, he knows just how to provoke Louis enough to tell him everything. Maybe that’s why Louis’ instincts drove him here in the first place.

Louis throws a glare at his friend and shoves past him into the flat.

“Hey, is everything alright?” Nick’s tone is sarcastically light.

As Nick follows him into the living room and sits down beside him on the sofa, Louis hates himself a bit for coming here. He knows he did it because he needs help sorting his head out, but he really doesn’t feel like doing it at the same time. He doesn’t know where to start, is scared of what Nick will say and everything with Harry has always felt like it belongs between the two of them, not for others to scrutinise. In a way, it’s had to be like that, because their nosy friends and family have held a magnifying glass over their relationship since they were teenagers. It’s become less intense over the years, like they grew tired of waiting for Harry and Louis to become what they said was “meant to be”. Then of course, there’s Nick who has never stopped with the innuendo and unsubtle hints about them, but somehow it’s been easy to pin that on how Nick is as a person—annoying as hell (but with one of the kindest hearts Louis has had the pleasure of knowing).

“Okay, I’ll drop the bullshit, what’s up mate?” Nick asks and Louis pulls a throw pillow to his chest, as if to shield himself from Nick’s attentive gaze.

“I slept with Harry.” To hell with tact and context.

“What?” Nick asks, looking at Louis like he’s trying to figure out if Louis is fucking with him.

“We slept together the other night, on Sunday.” That’s a fact, facts are good, let’s stick to those.

After a beat or two Nick’s face blooms into something so excited and happy Louis’ first instinct is to join him in the cheering. He manages to stop himself though when he remembers this isn’t really a good thing.

“I _can’t believe_ you two finally got your shit together. It’s been 84 years! That’s amazing, Lou!” Nick is beaming at him, all white teeth and crinkled eyes.

“It’s not…” Louis throat clogs up as the pressure of the past week catches up with him, suddenly crowding in on him. “I don’t think it’s a good thing. I think I fucked up.”

Nick’s face falls and even though he looks massively disappointed at first, he has the decency to pull himself together. “What happened?”

Louis opens his mouth and then all of it falls out of him like a waterfall; about hiding the interview out of potential embarrassment, and Harry's initial excitement about the job. “But then I could tell he was upset about it and… we had a falling out and I just. I’m so fucking stupid, I fucked up so bad and Harry is… he’s trying so hard not to stay mad at me, I know he is, and I said some really… insensitive stuff about us and just… _fuck._ ” Louis has to stop himself, frustrated tears now falling down his cheeks and he presses the palms of his hands into his eyes to stop them.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Nick says and Louis feels Nick’s hand slowly move up and down his back, comforting. “I’m not sure I follow though… you… you got at job in London and Harry is upset about it?”

Louis shakes his head. “No, I mean, well, yeah… he thinks I don’t appreciate our friendship or that like… I don’t want to live with him, but it’s not about that, it’s _not._ I was just stupid and insecure and now I don’t know how to get myself out of this mess.”

When he pulls his hands away from his eyes he catches Nick closing his eyes and shaking his head as if the clear the confusion. “But… what does this have to do with you sleeping together?”

“I was feeling bad about it all and then I met up with Liam and he kept talking about this Sam guy and how like… how he doesn’t know if they’re friends or dating? And then I couldn’t stop thinking about me and Harry and why… why we’re so different with each other than our other friends. Then I just, I got really upset and felt like shit because I started this whole thing, so of course I go to him because I always do that when I’m upset over stuff and… yeah well we… I don’t know why it happened but all of a sudden we were like _doing stuff_ … and now I don’t know what to do.” Louis looks at Nick to gauge his reaction, to see if Nick is looking at him like he’s a despicable human being. Nick still looks highly confused, so Louis continues, trying to explain how much he’s fucked up.

“First, I yell at him that we’re not a couple so he has no reason to be angry with me and then a few days later I sleep with him! And now I’m just even more confused and Harry isn’t talking to me properly _again_ like… I hate that I sent in that application. I hate that I didn’t tell him. I hate _everything_.”

Louis deflates after that, sinking into the sofa cushion and feels himself spiraling into a mess of blaming himself for every single bad thing that has ever happened ever. Nick just stares at him for a few seconds, obviously trying to process all the information.

“Okay… let’s just back up for a bit, take this one step at a time?” Nick asks eventually and Louis sits up a little straighter, ready for Nick to stop the whirlwind in his head. “So, did Harry tell you why he got upset over the job offer?”

“Because I didn’t tell him about it and that I didn’t think about the consequences of me moving… like how that would effect him, effect us.”

“Yeah that’s, you’ve lived together since you were kids… that’s—okay whatever, but you get that right? Why he was upset?”

“Yes. I know I fucked up but also like, we have to talk about this _now_ because I’m supposed to give an answer in two days!” Louis tries to defend himself but he’s not sure against what or who.

“So, talk to him?” Nick looks at him, an incredulous frown on his face.

“Well, he’s been avoiding me! Or like…” The air suddenly runs out of him and he has to suck in a deep breath. “I feel like he doesn’t want to talk about it and that makes me not want to talk about it, and there’s… I feel like when we’ve tried talking about it we never get anywhere because we’re not talking about… I don’t even know.” He sinks into the sofa again, as defeated and frustrated as ever.

“Why did you sleep with him then?” Nick asks. “Or rather, why don’t you just get your shit together and like, _get together?_ You do realise this makes no sense to anyone who isn’t you or Harry right? I, for one, do not understand it at all. You’re like, fucking soul mates, but I always figured it was on a mostly platonic level. But now you’re telling me you slept together, so what’s the problem?”

Louis feels his face contort into a frown, annoyed that Nick would start talking about this instead of the real issue... then again, to Nick it’s probably the same thing. “It’s not like that between us,” he says, trying to make the statement seem final, as if Nick would just drop it with an, ‘Oh, alright, sorry’.

“But you find him attractive right?” The question seems so ridiculous, so removed from the situation between him and Harry. He scoffs at Nick.

“Of course I do! Have you seen him? But I don’t sleep with every attractive person I know! You’re fit enough, but I wouldn’t poke that bony arse with a stick.”

Maybe that was a bit mean but he feels like he’s just blindly lashing out now, not sure what they’re _actually_ talking about and how he should feel about it.

Nick stares at him, utterly unimpressed. “You also don’t share basically your whole life with my bony arse so...”

“Well I’m _telling you_ , it’s not _like that_ and that’s not even—this isn’t about us being _a_ _couple_ it’s about us being the way we are now!”

“Isn’t part of the issue that you have never really _talked_ about the way you are now, though? You clearly expect other things from each other than most friends do?”

“Yes! But how am I even supposed to talk to him about that? How am I supposed to ask him something that I don’t even know myself?!” Louis is slightly stunned after his own outburst.

Nick is quiet for a little while and when he starts talking Louis realises Nick was probably just waiting for him to calm down enough to have a normal conversation without shouting. “So tell me, why aren’t you and Harry ‘like that’ _?_ I genuinely don’t understand.” His words could be interpreted as mocking but Louis can tell he really wants to understand.

“We’re not in love with each other, that’s really it,” Louis says. “It’s not some… we’re not trying to make it more difficult for ourselves on purpose or… anything like that, it’s just… we’re not in love.” He wonders, not for the first time, if things hadn’t just been easier if they were.

Nick lets out a noise of disbelief, somewhere between a laugh and a scoff.

“What does that even mean though? ‘You’re not in love’? You _love_ _him_ , what is it that’s missing from that? What is this ‘love’ that you’re talking about?”

“I don’t know, just… I’ve never…” he trails off, annoyed at his own inability to describe his thoughts and feelings.

“Is it meeting someone new and getting butterflies in your belly that stops after a couple of months? Is it wondering if this great guy you’re seeing is as into you as you are into him? Is it getting your heart broken over and over again because either he wanted it more than you, or you wanted it more than him, and getting past that point is _fucking difficult_?”

Louis’ stomach sinks with that, because he knows how personal this is to Nick. “Nick…” he starts and Nick just lets out a deep sigh, interrupting him.

“No, this isn’t… I’m not saying all this for you to feel sorry for me. I’m really not. And I’m not saying you and Harry should be together because I say so but just… _think_ about it. It’s just utterly incomprehensible to me. It’s not like you haven’t tried being with other people, it’s not like you haven’t had butterflies and heartbreak and all that shit, but for some reason you _always_ choose each other. Every time.”

All of a sudden Louis feels so small, like the walls are closing in on him and he’s going to break from the pressure any second now. “I’m not sure it was ever about… _choosing_ each other it was just… it was just, what we fell back into.”

“How many of yours and Harry’s relationships have ended because of your relationship with each other? Either directly or indirectly?”

“I don’t think… I don’t think that’s the point,” Louis nearly whimpers out, losing his resolve with each word.

“Alright whatever you say, I’m not gonna try to like, convince you to do something you don’t want but… I just want to say like…” Nick hesitates for a few seconds before looking straight at Louis. “Sometimes I don’t think you appreciate what the two of you have, even without the sex I always… I would do anything to have a connection like that with someone and I thought… I thought sure, maybe they’re just not into each other so that’s why it’s never happened, but now? Maybe it’s not all what you expected but I really don’t understand what else you’re looking for. I really don’t.”

There’s a big lump forming in his throat and tears burning in his eyes and he’s not entirely sure how to take his next breath. He always thought his and Harry’s relationship was something that only made sense to them, that other people’s understanding of them was superficial and didn’t apply. But now Nick, who’s always teased them and made fun of their friendship, puts their relationship in a wider context, shines a spotlight to it and raises questions Louis hasn’t had the ability to ponder before.

“I’ve never been looking for anything else though,” he croaks out eventually, voice thin and coarse, his heart beating erratically in his chest. He feels all wrong, stretched thin and on the verge of bursting at the same time.

Nick laughs again, a tired but endeared sound. “I don’t even know what to tell you anymore Tomlinson. I really don’t.”

-

In the end the conversation with Harry is strangely anti-climatic. On Thursday night they have dinner together, Harry making them risotto with asparagus and sun-dried tomatoes. They talk with calm, even voices, like the two past weeks have drained them of any will to fight. Harry says he’s been thinking and that the only reasonable thing to do is for Louis to accept the job offer. That they will still have the summer to come up with a solution for the flat, that they will work it out, because it’s them and they always do.

Somehow it leaves Louis feeling like they haven’t reached a conclusion at all.

The next morning he calls Malkin & Bots, accepting the job offer with a heavy heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave kudos or a comment if you enjoyed ❤
> 
> You can also find me on [tumblr.](http://gaycousinlarry.tumblr.com/)
> 
> And here's a tumblr post if you want to [reblog.](http://gaycousinlarry.tumblr.com/post/163322277488/remind-me-again-written-by-momentofclarity) Thank you!


	4. Chapter 4

Sinking into the sofa they bought off of Gumtree when they moved into their second flat, ugly but beyond comfortable, Harry looks around their flat with new eyes. Louis accepted the job this morning and ever since the then the day has been covered in a slightly surreal fog.

There’s the photo and art wall they worked on for months after moving in, adding pieces and moving them around to create perfectly balanced chaos. Over by the kitchen entrance there’s the pile of footie magazines that they have a subscription to but never read. In the drawer of their secretary bookcase is the layout sketch of their dream house, drawn while giggling and drunk off of mimosas at one in the morning on a hot summer night. Suddenly it feels like these very physical objects are about to turn to dust in his hands. How are they even supposed to divide their things? Their things that have always been _theirs._ Harry can barely come up with one single thing that is inherently _his_ in the flat except for his clothes and toiletries, and even that ownership is questionable most of the time. It feels impossible, unimaginable, yet here they are. Of course that’s only the practical separation, which as impossible as it seems, is way easier to think about than the emotional one. Routines, gross habits, comforting smells, quiet humming and toothpaste stains on the bathroom mirror. Knowing without a doubt that Louis will be there when he needs him, either for a chat, a cuddle, or useless bickering.

A strong urge to protect what they have, what he considers his life, overwhelms him. They need to fix this, need to make the situation at least _acceptable_ , because tearing everything up without a plan for how to replace the pieces seems like nothing short of cruel heartbreak.

Louis is out in the kitchen, glasses tinkering and the fridge being opened and shut. Harry imagines the way Louis moves through the space, standing up on his tippy toes to reach for the nice wine glasses and hip checking the fridge door to make it close. Then Louis makes his way into the living room, wine glasses and a chilled white wine in his hand. They changed into joggers and jumpers after work and decided they were too tired for dinner tonight, so crisps and wine it is.

“Hope the wine is okay, one of my co-workers recommended it so…” Louis says. He gives Harry a smile as he starts filling up their glasses. He seems a bit unsettled and he’s been like that since he came home from Nick’s the other night. Harry’s not sure what to make of it.

“I’m sure it’s fine,” Harry replies with a reassuring smile.

As soon as Louis leans back into the sofa cushions Harry scootches closer. Pressed close and in each other’s space. Maybe being upset with Louis over the past couple of weeks has made him extra clingy or maybe he just never thought about their proximity before. Maybe that’s a result from five days ago when Harry touched him in ways he never had before. He tries not to think too much about that but somehow it’s still there, thrumming just beneath his skin.

“So how does it feel?” Harry asks before taking a sip of the wine, the other arm up on the backrest and he leans his head against his knuckles.

Louis face is right next to his elbow, head leaned back and gazing up at Harry. “Really really weird,” he says.

“Yeah, I’m right there with ya,” Harry agrees.

“I’m so sorry everything happened the way they did, I’ve been such a prick… I can’t stand the thought that I’ve hurt you.” He looks so sincere and apologetic Harry’s chest twinges with affection.

“Yeah but… that’s over and done with now, I can’t stay mad at you any longer,” Harry admits.

They’re staring at each other, something that would probably be uncomfortable with anyone else but with Louis it’s comforting. It still doesn’t mean that Harry fully understands everything he sees in those electric blue eyes.

“Well I’m sorry anyways…” Louis says and his voice is so soft and airy.

“I know.” Harry gently nudges his hand against Louis’ cheek. “I just can’t wrap my head around you leaving like… all our stuff… it just seems…”

“Impossible, I know.” Louis he shuts his eyes tight for a moment before before looking back at Harry again.

“It’s not like you’ll want to commute from here every day, it’s like three and a half hours one way, over two hours by train,” Harry says, because he’s definitely looked up every possibility over the past few days.

Louis rests his temple against Harry’s arm, briefly pressing his nose into his skin. “Finding something for myself in London seems like a nightmare though.”

“Other people manage, Mr Fancy Architect, I’m sure you will too,” Harry teases even though there’s something heavy in his chest and what he really wants to say is 'Oh yeah, impossible, you better not even try.'

Louis’ fingers curl into the fabric of Harry’s jumper, nervously biting at his bottom lip. “But what about… us?” Like Harry hadn’t thought of that before.

“I don’t know,” Harry admits and it comes out quiet and small. “Could we… could we maybe talk about this a little later on? Just the thought of it makes me sick right now, I’m not sure I can think rationally about it just yet.”

Louis doesn’t exactly look happy with his answer but he still agrees with him. “Okay, you’re right. I’m not starting my introduction until mid-August anyways. We can… maybe in a week or so, once we’ve gotten more used to the idea?”

“Yeah, lets do that, I think that’s for the best.”

A few long beats of silence pass, time stretching out between them like it’s giving them reprieve. Finding them extra room to sort out their thoughts. Harry’s not sure it works.

“So what do we do now?” Louis asks eventually and for some reason his cheeks tint pink at his own words, which in turn makes Harry cheeks flare with heat. He doesn’t think the question is meant to be suggestive but they are still _so_ _close_ and ever since last Sunday Harry has not exactly thought of Louis’ lips the same way as before.

He waits a few beats until he’s sure he can answer without a stutter, “Let’s just watch a film.”

They end up sharing Harry’s bed that night and Harry feels like it’s both stubbornness and slight desperation making them defy this strange tingling thing between them. When Louis folds himself along Harry’s back and Harry links their fingers together over his chest he sighs contentedly and snuggles into the blankets. He refuses to make this _thing_ into a problem. It’s just there. Lingering in the air, disturbing the uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach.

-

Saturday mornings are his absolute favourite. Even though he wakes up naturally at eight AM at the latest, he loves the chance to sleep in. He especially loves it when he sees the crumpled sheets on Louis’ side of the bed and hears the bustling of Louis making breakfast out in the kitchen. His stomach growls at the smell of sausage and he grins into the pillow before getting up and heading out into the kitchen.

“You spoil me Tomlinson,” Harry greets and Louis turns around, still adorably sleep rumpled in nothing but a pair of joggers and with a big crinkled smile on his face.

“It’s my job you know,” he answers and Harry heart clenches involuntarily. It’s so fucking sappy and domestic and Harry never wants to wake up on a Saturday morning without this.

He walks up to Louis, puts his chin on his shoulder and inspects the contents of the frying pan.

“Oh god that looks good,” he comments and Louis hums in agreement as he keeps poking at the eggs and sausage.

For a moment Harry tilts his head and nuzzles into the soft hair behind Louis’ ear, breathing him in. Beneath the heavy smell of delicious grease hanging in the air, he can still catch a whiff of Louis. Without thinking he pushes a little closer, the smell one of the best things he knows, his chest against Louis’ back as he places a row of small kisses along Louis’ neck. It’s so warm and lovely and familiar that it takes a while for him to notice the way Louis has gone completely still as goosebumps break out over his naked shoulder. Harry’s heart starts rabbiting in his chest and he quickly takes a step back.

“Shit sorry,” he breathes out.

Louis takes a deep breath before pushing the pan to the side and turning around to face him. “It’s alright.”

“God this is so weird, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” Harry rambles out and winces at the same time, very aware of the fact that he’s making a big deal out of something that wouldn’t have to be in the first place.

Louis smiles at that, his eyes glittering with fond. “You’re not making me uncomfortable,” he says and reaches a hand up to tuck a curl of hair behind Harry’s ear carefully.

“You sure?” he asks and pinches his bottom lip between his fingers, nervous and fidgety.

“Of course,” Louis says. His voice is so raspy soft and Harry loves him so much. “It’s just… different is all.”

Even though his cheeks heat up, Harry can’t help the small smirk that curls over his lips at that. “Different huh?”

Louis blushes too and it’s quite ridiculous really but he looks lovely like this. Soft and warm and pink. “Don’t let it get to your head Curly.” Louis grins and then promptly turns around again to continue with breakfast.

It only takes another few hours for Harry to forget himself again. They are heading out with some friends tonight, celebrating Louis’ new job after everyone was finally let in on the news. Harry takes a long hot shower to relax and wash away the stress of the past week and he fantasizes about the first sip of a cold lager once he’s finished and makes his way out of the bathroom.

“Jesus Christ!” Louis interrupts his thoughts and glares at him as they stand face to face in the hallway leading to their bedrooms. Louis glares at him but also very pointedly gives him a once over. “That’s your naked fucking penis right there,” Louis says and meets Harry’s eyes, his cheeks yet again rose tinted.

Harry squawks out a laugh at that, not knowing if he’s embarrassed or just really amused. “It’s just habit!” he defends himself and covers his crotch with his hands.

“You’re fucking shameless is what you are,” Louis says and squeezes past him into the living room.

Harry doesn’t stop grinning for the next thirty minutes.

-

The club is packed and Harry’s buzzed enough to let his worries settle for the time being. It’s one of those places that plays loud house music with an obnoxiously repetitive bass and no vocals that makes Harry think of raves but that he’s repeatedly come across at art exhibitions. He’s not even sure if raves are even a thing anymore. He and Louis have stayed by each other’s side most of the evening, feeding of off each other’s energy in the best possible way, constantly teaming up to tease Niall or to gush over Jade’s new cat. Harry’s in a wonderful mood, the beer and the good company sparkling through his veins and makes him laugh at Nick’s rude sarcastic jokes even though it only stokes his flame.

He catches Louis watching him sometimes, which in itself isn’t that unusual, but tonight he thinks he sees something else in those blue eyes he’s so ridiculously fond of. He’s looking at Harry as if he’s a puzzle to solve and it baffles Harry a bit. If anything he’s been nothing but an open book since the day Louis stormed into his life in the form of a footie playing eight year old in the park all those years ago.

When he catches Louis’ gaze again he raises an amused eyebrow in silent question. _What?_

The corners of Louis’ eyes crinkle up, his eyes small sparkling slits. He quirks his head slightly and raises both eyebrows while smiling cheekily. _Nothing._

Harry can’t help the smile that spreads over his face _. You fucking idiot._ He shakes his head.

Louis’ nose scrunches slightly before he puckers his lips into an air blown kiss. _You love me._

A familiar warmth spreads through Harry’s belly and he can’t do anything but agree, his smile melting into something that is probably too soppy for strobe lights and beer-sticky floors. _I sure do._

_-_

Later on, Harry finds himself over by the bar with Nick as the others have scattered around the place. Nick has been acting strange all night and that together with Louis’ constant attention has left him a little unsettled. He wonders what they talked about when Louis was over at Nick’s place the other night. What Nick knows about him, about them, and what he makes of it.

“Doesn’t it bother you? Like at all?” Nick bursts out eventually, like he’s wanted to ask for a while.

Harry lets out a laugh of surprise because the question is so out of the blue Nick can’t possibly expect him to know what he’s referring to. “Does what bother me?”

Nick nods over to the dance floor where Louis is dancing with some bloke Harry finds vaguely familiar. “That.”

His heart speeds up a bit and he shifts in his seat. “What do you mean? Who’s that guy?” His mind whirring with activity as he tries to place where he’s seen the guy before.

Nick just rolls his eyes and looks at him like he’s stupid. “It doesn’t matter who the guy is, that’s not the point.”

Harry looks over to the two men dancing under the flashing lights. Louis is smiling brightly and moves his body together with the other guy whose hand is secured at Louis’ hip. It’s a sight he’s seen countless times over the years, the way the other man can’t seem to tear his eyes away from Louis’ body moving in sync with the music. In a way he understands it, because Louis is absolutely mesmerising like this. Harry’s lips quirk into a smile because he’s fairly sure Louis knows it too.

“If he’s not some arsehole, then why would it bother me? Louis doesn’t exactly look unhappy,” Harry answers and looks quizzically at Nick. Of course he knows why Nick is asking, but he sure as hell won’t give him anything for free. Louis must have told Nick about them sleeping together so now Nick has made his own assumptions about what it means.

“You just don’t care at all that’s he’s grinding up on someone else?” Nick looks nearly annoyed, like he cannot make sense of Harry’s reaction at all.

His gut reaction is to defend himself, to say 'Of course I don’t, we’re just friends' but then he lets the question sink in for another few seconds, because it’s not as easy as that, is it? He also knows Nick is only trying to understand because he’s got Louis’ back, not because he’s a nosy gossip (even though he is that too). Harry purses his lips in contemplation as he tries to formulate his thoughts in a way that would make sense to Nick. At the same time he’s acknowledging the buzzing beneath his skin that’s been constant since they came to the club, or maybe even since before then. The unspoken agreement, the sparkle in Louis’ eyes, the way Harry can’t seem to stop the corners of his lips from pulling up, all spurred on by the alcohol making its way through his system.

“I’m not jealous no,” Harry finally answers, since that’s what Nick is really asking. “He… looks like he’s doing fine.” He waits for Nick to react, which he does with furrowed brows, before he continues. Maybe Louis is right about him being a drama queen after all. “But I also know he’s coming home with me so,” he shrugs, playing nonchalant even though his heart is rabbiting in his chest at his words. It sounds so possessive, so different from anything he’s every said or thought in relation to Louis before.

He wonders if that is something that has changed, or if it’s always been the case. Maybe he’s never been jealous of the one-night stands, the dates or the boyfriends Louis spends time with, because he knows that at the end of the day (or night) Louis will come back home to him. The thought somehow makes his belly curl with discomfort.

There’s a spark in Nick’s eyes that makes him blush, heat traveling up his neck as he takes a sip of the beer. “Oh, is he now?” Nick asks around a grin, eyebrow arched cheekily.

Harry tries to shake away the discomfort, the way the words didn’t feel right even though they technically _are_. He’s known all night that Louis will come back with him, has felt it in the gentle brush of Louis’ knuckles over his arm, the press of Louis’ thigh against his and those eyes following him in a way they never have before. He’s sure it’s the alcohol that allows them to do this. It’s almost like they have just waited for an excuse to be reckless again. “I didn’t mean it like that,” he says lamely.

“I’m sure you didn’t Harold,” Nick drawls out sarcastically, clearly making fun of him.

Harry doesn’t even know what to say to that, so for once he lets Nick have the last word, emptying the last of his pint.

-

He sees Louis approaching from across the room and their gazes catch when he’s half way over, twin smiles blooming over their faces. It’s fucking ridiculous is what it is, because he’s almost always happy to see Louis but now there’s _expectation_ bubbling in his stomach no matter how hard he tries to make it go away.

“Hi there,” Louis greets him and pokes a pointy finger into his side.

Harry tries to get away from the assault but keeps grinning. “You having a good time?” He raises an eyebrow and nods towards the dance floor where Louis was just dancing with that guy. He doesn’t know why, but it feels like he’s flirting.

The tip of Louis’ tongue darts out between his teeth cheekily. “Nah, I’d rather head home really,” he says, eyes squinting like he’s thinking it over.

Harry’s heart speeds up and he hopes the hitch in his breath isn’t too noticeable. “Sure yeah, me too.”

They share a taxi and make small talk on the way home and everything is just how it used to be but also so very different. Somewhere at the back of his head there’s a small voice sternly telling him to think things through, to not be stupid and careless, but it’s easy to ignore it. Easy to blame the few beers he’s had, even though he’s definitely sober enough by now to know that that doesn’t make any sense.

Louis locks up the door and they fall into their regular “late night coming home from the pub” routine that Harry never even reflected over before. He heads to the bathroom to get ready for the night as Louis goes into the kitchen to prepare a snack and some ice water. Once he’s done with his face routine and changed into a pair of joggers he meets Louis in the kitchen, right where he knew he would be. He’s standing by the counter and smiles softly at Harry, pushing a plate of nachos over to him. “There you go, you’re gonna feel loads better tomorrow if you eat it.”

“Thanks,” Harry smiles back and dives in.

They share the nachos and a silence that Harry doesn’t know how to interpret falls between them. The fluorescent lamp above the oven flickers occasionally, bathing the kitchen in a soft but almost eerie light. When he slobbers cheese down his chin Louis laughs at him, an airy cackle followed by a crinkled grin as he reaches over with a napkin, rather violently wiping Harry’s chin. “Need some help there?”

Harry tries to pout as he steals the napkin and leans out of Louis’ reach, but he can’t help but laugh as well. “God I’m such a fucking mess.”

“A cute mess,” Louis says, cheeks immediately pinking up and his gaze falls to the kitchen table.

Harry’s pulse picks up and the look of Louis’ long eyelashes fanned against his rosy cheeks is quite pleasing to the eye. They are both being silly because Louis has called him things far more suggestive than “a cute mess”, but it’s very apparent that new rules apply tonight.

Louis takes a deep breath and lets out a noisy sigh before he looks up at Harry bashfully, “Sorry I’m so fucking awkward, I’m just… I’m not…” he takes a deep breath. “This isn’t just me right? This is…” then he stops and rolls his eyes at himself. “You just look really good tonight.”

Now it’s Harry’s turn to blush and avoid eye contact. “It’s not just you… you look really good too.” After a few moments he dares meeting Louis’ eyes again.

“Hazza…” Louis looks at him almost pleadingly, like he needs Harry to make the move and Harry nearly crumbles with the want to give him whatever he’s asking for.

He walks around the table and holds Louis’ cheek, the heat of it warming the palm of his hand as he brushes a thumb over his sharp cheekbone. “Tell me what you want,” he asks, because he can’t assume, it all feels too fragile.

Louis leans into him, placing a small kiss at his wrist. “I just want to be close to you.”

Harry knows Louis has always been gorgeous. Always admired the electric blue of Louis’ eyes, was bound to notice the beautiful contrast between sharpness and curves that make up his body, but to _know_ and to _experience_ seems to be two very different things. The way he feels the thudding pulse under Louis’ jawbone, the warmth of Louis’ breath dancing over his lips as they lean closer, sharp hipbones pressing against his thighs as Louis’ eyes flash with lightning. It’s something else and Harry fears it could be slightly addictive.

He meets Louis’ eyes one final time before pressing their lips together. It feels a lot like relief, this, because this he does know. Has kissed those lips for hours and hours, has let himself enjoy the comfort of Louis’ sweet breath and the scruff of his cheek against his.

The kiss doesn’t last long but feels insistent, final somehow, like a promise. When they part Louis’ shoulders have dropped and he’s leaning into Harry with ease. This they know. Being close, reassuring each other like this is second nature.

“We don’t have to do more if you don’t want,” Louis says, but the electric current has already picked up beneath the surface of Harry’s skin and the urgency he remembers from the last time they did _that_ is right there, just waiting to hit.

Harry doesn’t know what to say so he just kisses Louis again, and right when Louis opens his mouth with a small whimper, a surge of arousal makes Harry’s thighs clench tight. The way Louis slides his tongue against Harry’s, so wet and hot and perfect, has Harry grabbing onto him, fingers fisting into Louis’ hair.

Small strong hands smooth up Harry’s naked back, sending shivers up his spine as blunt nails dig into the skin. They kiss heatedly, wet and hungry, teeth biting into lips. “Let’s go to the bedroom,” Louis says when they break apart. “Want to- to do this proper.”

Harry just nods and follows him, his eyes drinking in the sway of Louis’ hips, the way those jeans hug his arse in the most irresistible way. Louis heads into his bedroom and crawls onto the bed on all fours in a way that nearly has Harry’s jaw dropping. The fucking _nerve_ of that man. Of course Louis can’t resist throwing a cheeky grin over his shoulder, making Harry laugh because of how easily he seems to fall for Louis’ teasing. When Louis drops down on the mattress, he lounges back against the pillows, fingers brushing his fringe over his forehead. “You just gonna stand there, Curly?”

 _God_ , Harry wants to smack him. Instead he raises an eyebrow and pulls his joggers down in one swift movement. His cock hanging heavy and clearly interested between his legs. The way Louis’ smile falls in sync with his gaze draws a smirk over Harry’s lips as he walks on his knees up to Louis’ side on the bed. He knows he’s acting completely unabashed, the way his cock swings between his legs as he goes, like he’s showing off, but when Louis’ eyes darken and his tongue darts out to wet his lips it makes it all worth it.

Before he knows it, Louis lunges at him, pulling him down on the mattress with such a force that he bounces, a loud squawk leaving his mouth in surprise. Louis straddles him and giggles under his breath at Harry, the rough fabric of his jeans rubbing against Harry’s thighs. “Utterly shameless,” Louis mutters, his eyes glittering with fond and heat, the mix making Harry’s belly burn with want.

He reaches up to pull Louis into a kiss and soon they’ve lost themselves in it again, both of them pulling at Louis’ clothes until they are pressed naked together. Warm damp skin sliding together as droplets of sweat break out over collarbones and roll down the curve of their spines. Harry feels dizzy with it, wants _more_ and Louis looks at him like he’s on the same page, like this isn’t even close to enough. Like within the last few minutes this has turned into a fevered race, Louis’ hips pushing harshly against his, their hard cocks skidding over skin in the desperate need for _more._

Louis’ fingers brush over his eyebrow, down over his cheek. “I want you… please let me…” he grinds out as the tip of his cock wets the inside of Harry’s thigh. It’s so fucking hot, so rough and dirty, Louis’ mouth hanging open, so wet and pink and inviting.

He grabs onto the thick muscle of Louis’ arse, fingers digging into the flesh, hungry to feel more, be closer. “ _Yes,_ want you to, get… _fuck,_ the lube.”

Louis tucks his head into the crook of Harry neck, his teeth and lips nibbling a small path up his throat, pinpricks of pain and heat sending goosebumps down Harry’s chest, his nipples hardening at the sensation as he moans out. Then Louis’ skin leaves his, cold air hitting him from all angles as Louis reaches over to the bedside drawer to find condoms and lube. As soon as he’s within arms reach again, Harry’s draws him in with his hands at the curve of Louis’ waist. Louis falls forward but catches himself with a hand on Harry’s chest. “Easy H,” he mumbles and plants a small kiss on his chest. He sits back on his haunches between Harry’s legs and pours lube onto two of his fingers.

Harry expects him to lean forward, to get the chance to kiss Louis’ red swollen lips again, but Louis scootches down the bed, nuzzling into the sensitive skin of his inner thigh. High strung and so hot he can barely fucking _breathe,_ Harry spreads his legs to make room, the tip of Louis’ tongue against his skin almost too much. “ _God,”_ he moans out and doesn’t even notice the way he’s pushing his hips up off the bed before Louis holds him down with his hands on his hips.

“Shit, you’re so…” Louis breathes against his hip, his face so so close to where Harry is thrumming with arousal.

He looks down at Louis, eyes downcast, eyelashes brushing against his cheeks glittering with perspiration, pink and golden mixing together. The sight is distractive enough for Harry to grunt in surprise when two wet fingers slide down between his arse cheeks and he needs to shut his eyes tightly, focus on not hurling over the edge prematurely as Louis’ draws circles around his hole, tantalising and so fucking good. His hand flails in front of him, desperate to find something to hold on to, to ground himself as Louis noses along his cock, lips brushing feather light over skin so hot he feels like he’s gonna burst any second now. He finds the sweat soaked strands of Louis’ hair and his fingers drag through it, accidentally tilting Louis’ head up.

A long whine escapes Louis’ lips and his fingers push even more insistently against Harry’s opening in response, like the push and pull of a tide wave. Harry releases his hold but lets his hand rest at the back of Louis’ neck as Louis leans forward again and captures the tip of his cock with his warm soft mouth.

Harry’s throat is already sore with how loud he’s being, but it’s impossible not to be with Louis on him like this. As Louis’ tongue press against the underside of the head of Harry’s cock, he pushes a finger inside, slowly but not stopping until he’s all the way inside and Harry needs to take a deep breath as black spots dance over his vision.

He’s so hot and everything feels so impossibly wet and tight, he’s nearly overwhelmed with it. “Stop, god, stop, I- _Lou,”_ he stutters out because he can’t find the right words.

Louis’ fingers stills between his legs and he pulls of off Harry’s cock, letting it fall back against his stomach. Harry sinks into the mattress in relief, even though a small whine leaves his throat in protest.

“You want to stop? You okay?” Louis wonders, eyebrows drawn together in worry.

He drags in another deep breath through his nose. “No, yes, it’s…” He cups Louis’ cheek in his hand, trying to tell him that everything is fucking splendid, just a little too splendid too soon. “You’re so perfect, just, so intense… maybe just your fingers for now?”

Louis’ pupils are blown wide with arousal and he nods in answer as a small smirk flickers over his lips. “Yeah…” He starts twisting his finger in and out of Harry, letting him get used to the slow drag of it before he pulls out, pouring more lube onto his fingers and pushing two in at the same time. The stretch is so good and when Louis plants a row of small kisses along the inside of his thigh it gets even better. Louis takes his time with him, stretching him with two, then three fingers, adding more lube as he goes. Harry doesn’t know how much time passes but all of a sudden he finds himself writhing on the bed, three fingers insistently pushing into his prostate and everything is so wet it feels like Louis poured a gallon of lube all over him, _inside of him_ , and Harry might be floating.

“Do you, _god babe_ , you’re so perfect like this, do you want…?” Louis says, voice dreamlike as if he’s right there floating with Harry.

It takes Harry a few seconds and a particularly intense push of Louis’ fingers against his spot to careen him towards an answer. “ _God!_ Yes, I want you, _please_ ,” he groans out, throwing his head back against the pillows as he catches his top lip between his teeth, tasting the salty perspiration there.

Louis leans over him, tongue wiping out against Harry’s mouth to taste him too. “Yeah? You sure?” he murmurs and Harry nearly cries at how badly he wants this, how much he wants to feel Louis move inside him.

He takes a deep breath and pulls back a little bit so he can look at Louis properly, making sure to be lucid enough to get his message across. “Want you inside me,” he says and his hands travel down the expanse of Louis’ back, fingers digging into the thick muscle of his arse to pull him closer.

Louis nods urgently then, like he definitely agrees with Harry’s want. “Yeah, yes, of course,” he says, his voice now strained and course.

When Louis eventually puts on a condom and pushes inside, it’s like Harry suddenly comes crashing down. Where everything was floaty and blissful a second ago it’s now tight pressure and heat. Louis is holding him close, arms wrapped around his torso, and Harry does his best to keep up as Louis kisses him. They are moving together in hard slow thrusts and Harry holds onto Louis’ arse cheeks to press them impossibly closer. Their fevered race picks up again, hurling them towards hurricanes and earth quakes.

“Babe, god, babe you feel so good, I’m… not gonna last, just so… so perfect,” Louis grunts against his cheek but Harry already knows. Can already feel it in the way Louis’ muscles tense under his hands, the tremble of his breath against his lips and the way his mouth has gone slack.

“Yes, yes, come on, lets, just… a little, _more,_ ” he moans out and Louis wraps a hand around his cock, pulling him off in tight fast strokes.

He feels it in his whole body when it happens. His toes curling together, his arse cheeks clenching, his whole body like a bow drawn tight before he’s free falling, trembling as he comes all over his stomach, eyes shut tight.

“Oh god, oh god, oh-fucking-shit- _god,”_ Louis blurts out as his hips stutter and he comes so hard Harry can feel his cock pulsing inside of him as collapses on top of Harry.

It takes them a while to come out to the other side of the fog, minds muddled and slow. Louis starts kissing him, small soft pecks over his forehead, over his parted lips, Louis’ nose nuzzling into his cheek. “You’re so lovely,” he whispers, “So so lovely.”

Harry caresses up to his lower back, thumbing into the dimples at the bottom of his spine. “You are, that was… holy shit, Lou,” he says and the next second he feels Louis’ body tremble against him before he bursts out laughing.

“Oh god, it really was,” he says as he falls sideways onto the bed, chest still rumbling with laughter and before he knows it Harry is laughing too. It’s a giddy belly aching thing of a laugh, overwhelmed and filled with endorphins.

It doesn’t stop until Louis leaves the bed, coming back with a wet flannel and a glass of water. They fall asleep still giggling into each other’s skin.

\---

Louis wakes up to the sound of gulls screeching outside the window and as soon as he opens his eyes he’s offensively blinded by the early summer sun. They must have forgotten to shut the blinds last night.

Last night.

A small smile tug at his lips but he doesn’t dare to let it take over, way too unsure about how things are between him and Harry. Stretching out on the bed, he presses his nose into the pillow that smells like Harry. A lot like Harry. He lets himself enjoy it for a few moments, pictures from the night before invading his mind. Harry so sweet and lovely, so hot and wet and fucking perfect. Oh god. Not yet. Too much too early. He needs tea.

He pulls on some pants and heads out into the kitchen and that’s when it dawns on him how quiet it is. How quiet it is because Harry is not here. His first reaction is to check all the rooms, but a second later he deems it unnecessary because he knows what it sounds like when Harry is not here. His stomach drops suddenly and his pulse picks up way too quickly for this time in the morning, forcing him to steady himself against the kitchen counter. A messy flurry of thoughts hit him. _Why did he leave? Where did he go? What the fuck did I do?_

Curling up on the sofa he feels nearly sick with worry, did he honestly drive Harry out of his own home? Did he come on too strong last night? Harry leaving like this feels so incredibly uncharacteristic he doesn’t feel he can be blamed for the way his mind panics. He knows that they might not have been on the same page last night and the thought that he didn’t bring that up before anything happened makes him disgusted with himself.

Ever since his discussion with Nick a few days ago he’s not been able to stop thinking about what his friend said about him and Harry. About the special bond they have that is worth so much more than what he could ever imagine having with someone else, even if it isn’t exactly what he thought it would be. Even though it took him a while to admit it to himself, he’s started to seriously think about what it would be like if him and Harry were a couple. Would it even work? Could he ask that of Harry since Harry deserves all the nervous butterflies in the world? Would it be asking Harry to settle?

In a way he saw last night as a test, as a way to see if what’s happening between them could lead to… something else. The way he felt with Harry last night made him think that maybe, maybe they could make it work. And he did his best to show that to Harry, to hold him and kiss him and touch him the way he deservers to be held, kissed, and touched. And now Harry has fled the field. He wants to cry with how awful he feels, like he used Harry, like he had intentions beyond the obvious and maybe that freaked Harry out. Did he do exactly the thing that Harry was scared he would? Make them into something that Harry never wished for them to be? Forced ideas of love and romance on them in a way that Harry never asked for?

No wonder he ran.

He’s left unable to move, just sitting there on the sofa, not able to decide if he should make tea or call Harry or maybe call his own mum. After a while he’s worked himself into such a frenzy of worry he forces himself to go find his phone and at least text Harry. With trembling fingers he writes out a message.

**_are you alright? where are you?_ **

Long minutes stretch out around him, suffocating him, before he gets an answer.

_I’m on my way back, see you in a bit_

The answer makes his heart beat out of his chest and sets him into motion. He hurries into his bedroom to get dressed and then out to the kitchen to but the kettle on. His hands are still trembling and it feels like something suspiciously close to adrenaline shooting through his veins. It’s not even ten o’clock for god’s sake.

When the front door opens Louis stops breathing until Harry makes his way into the kitchen.

“Hi,” Harry greets with a small slightly stiff smile and a lump grows in Louis’ throat at the sight. He’s so relieved to see Harry but also scared out of his fucking mind.

“Hey,” he breathes out, a strained awkward sound.

Harry clears his throat and fumbles with the sleeve of his jumper. “Umm… I know I said I didn’t want to talk yet but… do you think we could? I um… I think I have to.”

Louis’ first instinct is to shake his head, to create some sort of diversion and whisk Harry away from the thick air in their kitchen. “Sh-sure,” he stumbles out instead.

Harry just gives him a short nod before he heads out into the living room, but instead of sitting down he hovers over by the window, his back turned to Louis who doesn’t know what to do with himself.

Whenever he imagined this situation, this conversation, it was never like this. Always thought they’d be sitting close, voices soft and reassuring between them. When he sits down at the edge of the sofa cushion, he’s never felt further away from Harry.

“Was there…” he starts because he can’t stand the silence. “Was there anything in particular you… wanted to say?” He chokes up at the last few words, silently begging Harry not to hate him.

Harry curls in on himself, arms crossing over his chest and shoulders hunching forward, as he turns around to face Louis. His face is filled to the brim with emotion. Bottom lip chewed red, eyes glassy and brows furrowed. The sight makes tears well up in Louis’ eyes.

“I woke up hours ago and I couldn’t go back to sleep. I couldn’t… I couldn’t stop thinking about us, about all this and I just… I’m sorry I left without telling you but I just had to clear my head,” Harry says and it sounds like he’s forcing the words out. At least it’s apparent he knew it would worry Louis to leave like that. He’s not sure if that’s a good or a bad thing or if it even matters at all.

“Okay,” Louis says quietly just to urge Harry to go on.

“I think… I mean, _god Lou,_ I’ve been so fucking confused over the passed two weeks, so hurt and scared and clueless about what to do and… I mean I know I said you should take the job but _fuck…_ I… I don’t think I thought it through because now I feel like I’m gonna fucking _break_ if I lose you, I can’t fucking lose you,” Harry rambles out and what feels like a thousand contradicting feelings hit Louis at the same time. He’s so utterly fucking _relieved_ that Harry doesn’t seem angry with him, but everything in him tells him to make this _right_ , to make Harry not feel as conflicted and scared as he now seems.

“You’re not going to lose me,” he scrambles off of his seat and over to Harry, his hands hovering in the space between them because he wants to touch but he’s not sure how. “You’re not gonna lose me, I _promise_ , okay? No way.”

“But how do you know? You’re moving to another city, you’re gonna meet new people all the time and I’m so fucking terrified that we’ll drift apart and then after a few months you’ll tell me you’ve met someone, that you… you’re moving in with him and I’m just gonna… I’m gonna be like any other old roommate, just an old friend you don’t see as often anymore.” Harry stares at him, his green eyes wide and filled with so much vulnerability Louis’ heart thunders in his chest.

“That’s not going to happen, _never_ , okay? I’m not gonna let it, I’m not—”

“But you can’t know that! It’s not the kind of thing people make happen it just _does!_ ” Harry yells, cheeks flushing an angry red and it feels like the air is punched out of Louis’ lungs.

He knows what he has to bring up, but he’s not sure where to even begin, not sure if it’s what Harry wants to hear or the complete opposite.

“I’ve been—I’ve actually… I’ve been thinking a lot about…” he mumbles out, his gaze falling to the floor. He takes a deep breath to steel himself and then looks up at Harry again. “Nick made me think about like… he was asking about what… I mean…” Okay, here it goes. “I talked to Nick and he asked what I meant by us not being in love. Like… I know people have always teased us about being a couple and we’ve always said that we’re not… that it’s not like that between us. And I think… I think I just never saw the point? I never understood why that would somehow be better than what we have?” He looks at Harry in desperation trying to see if he’s heading in the right direction with this. Harry just nods for him to continue, eyes wide and bottom lip bitten red. “But I just… I think what I realised is… I don’t know what else I could possibly want.”

The silence that falls between them feels crushing, like Louis is going to crumble beneath the pressure, fall to the floor at Harry’s feet in nothing but shambles.

All Louis can do is stare back into those green eyes, trying to convey everything he so desperately needs Harry to know. _Please don’t leave me. Please don’t hate me. Please please please._

Harry looks like he’s drowning in conflicting thoughts, his fingers fidgeting as his eyes travel over Louis’ face in search of an answer. “What—what do you mean by that?” Harry asks eventually, voice thin and close to breaking.

“It means…” he starts but interrupts himself, tears welling up in frustration. “It means I love you, I love you so fucking much and I don’t want to lose you. I don’t ever want to lose you.”

He wipes at his eyes angrily, because the tears are in the way when all he needs is to look at Harry. When his eyes are clear, Harry is no longer looking at him though, eyes cast down.

“Are you… are you saying you’re in love with me?” At the last few words he looks up at Louis, his eyebrows furrowed slightly.

“I’m saying—I’m saying I don’t think I could truly fall in love with anyone else.” His heart thunders in his chest at the words, his ears ringing with the blood rushing. He never quite let himself think it before, but now that the words are out he knows that’s the truth. Maybe Harry never gave him butterflies, but he gave him a home, a life and more love than he could ever wish from someone else.

“I don’t understand what that means,” Harry says, tears welling up in his eyes, lip wobbling slightly and Louis wants nothing more than to hold him.

“It means… you’re not going to lose me, because I don’t want anyone else,” Louis says and his heart is thundering because he needs Harry to understand, to know that Louis has made up his mind, has found his final destination.

Harry is looking at him, so confused but with an edge to the soft green of his eyes. “That’s not what I want,” he says and then he’s storming out of the living room towards his bedroom.

Louis chases after him only to get a door slammed in his face. “Tell me what you want then! Tell me and I’ll give it to you!” he shouts, desperation so clear in his voice it almost sounds foreign to him.

“If you think I want you to settle with someone you’re not in love with, you’re a fucking idiot Louis Tomlinson!” Harry’s voice booms through the door and a second later the door is ripped open and Harry shoulders his way past Louis and out in the hallway.

“Harry wait for god’s sake! That’s not what I—please _just wait for a minute!_ ”

But then he’s left alone again and his heart is a pile of dust.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave kudos or a comment if you enjoyed ❤
> 
> You can also find me on [tumblr.](http://gaycousinlarry.tumblr.com/)
> 
> And here's a tumblr post if you want to [reblog.](http://gaycousinlarry.tumblr.com/post/163322277488/remind-me-again-written-by-momentofclarity) Thank you!


	5. Chapter 5

He’s a grown man and Louis knows that communicating through texts isn’t really a good option but he can’t get a hold of Harry and he feels like his whole life is ripping apart at the seems with each second that passes. He’s sitting on the armrest of the sofa, eyes refusing to clear up and heart still wreaking havoc in his chest.

**_if you think for a second that being with you would be settling, you’re a fucking idiot. i don’t know what else to say. i love you. i love you more than anything and being with you would be the best thing in my life. if it’s not what you want then i understand that and I’m so so sorry but please come back. please let me explain_ **

He doesn’t know how long he’s sitting on the sofa, waiting for Harry’s answer, only knows he can’t stop staring at his phone. Thinks for a brief second that maybe he should call someone, but shuts it down immediately as shame washes over him. Shame at what he’s done, that he has brought this on them and that ever since then he’s only made it worse. He’ll never forgive himself if he ends up losing Harry over this. Over a stupid job, or perhaps even worse, over his own fumbling heart. Right before he falls asleep on the sofa he sends a last text message

**_please come home_ **

-

His head is pounding and he can barely open his eyes because his lashes have clogged together from salty tears, but there’s a warm pressure against his side and his heart flutters in his chest before he’s even able to see him. Harry’s sitting beside him on the sofa, a sad soft look on his face as he brushes his thumb under Louis’ eye carefully.

“Hi,” Harry whispers and Louis desperately tries to wake up enough to understand what’s happening. Looking out the window Louis finds the sun is up but he can’t be entirely sure it’s still Sunday. He sure hopes so.

“Hi,” he says back as he sits up a little against the armrest.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me, honestly, I’m so sorry,” Harry says and reaches for Louis’ hand, lacing their fingers together. “I say I don’t want to lose you and then I run off, twice in the same fucking day too.” He’s pouting slightly and Louis can’t help the slight twitch to his lips at the sight, it feels like the first rays of sun after a thunderstorm.

“You came back,” is all Louis gets out at first, his voice rough from crying and sleeping.

“Of course I did, where am I supposed to go?” He shakes his head slightly. “I’ve only been away a few hours you know, got a few blocks away before I changed my mind and wanted to go back.”

“Why didn’t you come back immediately then?” Louis prods, thumb caressing over the back of Harry’s hand.

Harry swallows hard, his face falling slightly. “Lou I… these past two weeks has obviously taken a toll on me like… Like I said before, I know I told you to take the job but then I changed my mind and it’s just been like that… and then I just get so upset I stop thinking clearly and that’s… I just needed to sort out my head a bit.”

Louis scootches a little closer on the sofa and looks up at Harry. “And what did you sort out then?”

A few moments pass before Harry looks back at him almost bashfully. “I think… I don’t think I could be with someone I’m not in love with...”

The lump in Louis’ throat nearly chokes him, because he wishes things were different, wishes he could show Harry how good they could be. At the same time he thinks he’s known Harry’s answer all along, known Harry deserves to be whipped away in a flurry of fireworks and romance. He knows that he himself has finally realised where his heart belongs, who will forever hold it in the palm of his hands, and he wishes with all his might that Harry could feel that too.

He averts his eyes, not wanting Harry to see his thoughts play out inside of them as his heart breaks piece by piece.

“But I…” Harry starts and then stops himself as he chokes up. Louis dares a look at him and is thrown off by the amount of emotion thundering there. “The thing is… I think I could fall in love with you if I allowed myself to. Like, so easy. And what then? What if you break my heart Lou? What will I do then?” Harry turns away from him, cheeks tinted pink and Louis has never seen anything more spectacular in his life, never had his breath ripped from his lungs and his heart racing in his chest like this. _Fall in love with me._

“Oh love.” He curls his arms around Harry, shaking his head. “Don’t you see? If you… if you wanted this, if you wanted _me_ , I would be right there with you, like…” He puts one of Harry’s curls carefully behind his ear, his hand brushing against Harry’s warm damp cheek. “You’re _it_ for me Harry, I told you, I’m never gonna want anyone else.”

Harry is absolutely breathtaking when he looks up at him, eyes shining like the blue green flurry of the sea, lips raspberry pink and pillowy. “But you’re not in love with me, doesn’t that matter to you? Is that really what you want?”

He can’t resist dragging his knuckles down Harry’s cheek, his chest bursting with affection. “I’m not even sure how to explain this to you but… I always thought that falling in love with someone was about you know, butterflies in your belly, being nervous and jittery, the classic infatuation symptoms you know? Like the way I felt with Olly or Dev… and I… I never felt that way with you so I just thought, no, this isn’t love, this isn’t the butterflies and the sweaty palms so this can’t be it…” He takes a deep stuttering breath and ironically enough he can feel the palm of his hands clammy against the fabric of Harry’s t-shirt. “So, I’m not in love with you the way I was in love with Olly or Dev but… maybe that was because I never truly loved them? What is the infatuation I felt for them compared to finding my home in another person? Like… maybe I was never infatuated with you, maybe I never lost sleep over you or spent my days daydreaming about you, but I sure as hell managed to fall in love with you anyways.”

Harry stares at him with big wide eyes, shock clearly visible over his features. He’s still like a statue and Louis briefly wonders if he’s even breathing. Louis’ own breath comes out in heavy trembles, the sound so loud in the silence of their living room.

“So you… you _are_ in love with me?” Harry asks and he sounds terrified.

Tears well up in Louis eyes and he nods, his lips pursing together as to not let out a sob. Because he is. He’s so in love with the man in front of him he wonders how it’s possible for him to not have known this all along. Wants to damn every single romance novel and stupid rom com that’s ever existed for telling him about falling in love, but nothing about how to know you’re already there.

“Yes, I’m in love with you and I… if you… I know it’s not what you expected, I know you deserve all the butterflies and the candle lit dinners and all that but... if you wanted me, if you thought you could love me, there’s nothing in the world that would make me happier than to be yours Harry… I think, in so many ways I already am.”

Harry's gaze falls and he bites his bottom lip in contemplation for a few long moments as he lets a finger travel over the knuckles of Louis’ hand. “Well you already make me candle lit dinners, don’t you? And you kiss me and cuddle me, take care of me in the best way imaginable…” He looks up at Louis then, a small smile playing over his lips, eyes shining with something that wasn’t there just a moment ago. “I’d say you’ve wooed me quite proper over the past two decades or so… I’m not sure I could ask for more, not sure I’d want to.” Harry’s dimple appears in sync with how his cheeks bloom pink and Louis loves him with every fiber of his being.  


“If you gave me the chance, I’d give you everything,” Louis says, clutching Harry’s hands in his.

“Isn’t that it, though? You already do,” Harry says and if Louis didn’t know any better he’d try to identity the flutter in his own belly as he leans in to kiss him.

-

That night when they go to bed their hands never leave the other’s skin. Lips linger over freckles and scars, fingertips explore the most intimate curves of each other’s bodies. It’s new and it’s more familiar than anything. It’s earth shattering and the first breath of fresh air. They whisper trembling words into each other’s lips and pour their hearts out between the sparkling blue and green of their eyes. When Harry pushes inside of him, Louis lets Harry completely overtake him.

Everything else falls away. There’s nothing but the way every moan escaping from Harry’s lips sounds like overwhelmed wonder and Louis matches them with gasps of utter disbelief.

-

Over the next few weeks, Harry has a desperate need to _work things out_. Louis seems content exploring the way Harry bursts into hysterical giggles when he presses kisses to the curve of his ankle, or testing to see exactly how pink he can make Harry’s cheeks flush before he’s even put his hands on Harry’s skin. And as much as Harry revels in all the ways they fall together, he can’t stop thinking about the how and when of Louis leaving.

Some nights he lies awake thinking about what it’s going to be like to wake up in the mornings to an empty flat with Louis hours away and some days he spends researching all the things he wants to do when he comes to visit Louis in London. The thing is, now that they have finally found what was right under their own noses, Harry is terrified to let it go. He needs to know how it’s all going to play out.

“What about this then? Studio flat, twenty minutes away from central London? Look!” Harry shoves the iPad into Louis’ field of vision even though Louis seems busy tracing the freckles down Harry’s ribcage.

“Looks nice,” Louis mumbles, pressing a kiss against Harry’s shoulder. They are cuddled up on the bed in the bedroom they now call theirs, Louis’ room having already been rearranged into a guest room slash office.

“ _Lou,_ look properly,” Harry whines even though he can’t help his lips twitching into a smile.

Louis grins too, his gorgeous smile crinkling up the corners of his eyes, and places one last kiss to Harry’s collarbone before he sits up properly and looks at the ad. “Yeah, that’s… something like that could work,” he agrees as he scrolls through the pictures.

Harry nods, uncertainty settling in the pit of his stomach. “Yeah, I mean… unless like, you want something bigger? Something proper like—”

“Babe, I already told you, _this_ is my home, okay?” Louis interrupts him. “I’ll come down on weekends, maybe I could even work from here occasionally. And you’ll come visit me in my shitty little London flat and we’ll have the time of our lives sharing a single bed and eating instant noodles. It’ll be perfect.” He tilts his head up to properly meet Harry’s eyes, as if to show Harry how serious he is. Harry still pouts.

“I just don’t want you to feel like I’m holding you back or like you can’t have a proper home in London just because I’m back here,” he grumbles while setting the tablet down on the bedside table.

“My home is with you,” Louis says, conviction strong in his voice. “I’ll get a small flat in London, see how things goes with the new job and everything and then we’ll just see what happens in the future, yeah? Maybe London is terrible and I come running back here after two months?”

Harry snorts even though his unease is already letting up. “Yeah, cause that seems very likely.”

“Wouldn’t be surprised! Heard they have shitty flower shops in London; can’t get a proper bouquet for a reasonable price anywhere!”

That manages to put a grin on Harry’s face because his boyfriend is ridiculous and Harry loves him quite a lot. “Maybe they need someone to come help them out then, get them a flower shop worth the name?”

“Yeah, maybe someone will have to come sort them out,” Louis smiles softly and gives him a peck on the cheek.

Something wobbles deliciously in Harry’s stomach at the thought.

-

The summer blows past quickly and they have to cancel their planned hiking trip to Wales in favor of renovating the guest bathroom before Louis moves out. It somewhat settles Harry’s nerves because he gets something to focus on, a project that is _theirs_ that he can throw himself into while it feels like the rest of his life is turning into chaos with his heart on the brink of breaking. He tries to get used to the idea of Louis being away from him and even though it seems impossible, he’s really grateful for the fact that Louis will still very much be part of their shared home. He hangs on to every spoon, extension cord, and ugly fridge magnet they’ve purchased together over the years, making up this space that’s a carefully balanced mix of Louis’ innovative design and Harry’s knack for draping fabrics and creating beautiful flower arrangements.

The week of the big move Harry panics and tells Louis he can’t go, that Harry hasn’t had to fend for himself ever in his life and he cannot possibly be expected to start now. Louis reminds him he’s a grown man with a successful business and that he’s probably the most capable person he’s ever known. They spend the week packing up the few things Louis is going to bring with him and two nights before leaving it’s Louis’ turn to break down with nerves. In the end, Harry ends up going with him to London to get him settled in and surprisingly enough that helps Harry put things into perspective.

When Louis comes back from the first day of his introduction he’s glowing with an excitement that Harry hasn’t seen in years. Louis finally gets to be part of creating something withstanding, to use his skills and creativity to bring something new into the world. Harry had nearly forgotten what Louis could be like when he was passionate about his work and the fact that he now gets to see it makes the sacrifice seem a lot more endurable. He thinks about his own business and how Louis has supported him every step of the way since day one. Louis has held his hand through every bold decision, has snogged him senseless when he was so stressed out he needed the world to disappear for a while, has pushed him and cheered him on, and Harry now feels like he will finally be able to return the favor.

When he goes back to Manchester and their empty flat, he holds onto this thought as a good luck charm, keeps it present in his mind, protects his heart with it. Because it’s for _him,_ for his Louis, and that means everything. He might not know exactly how everything is going to work out, but what he does know is that he will have Louis by his side, if not physically, then in heart and mind, the way it always has been. If possible, they’re even more intertwined than before. Harry’s pulse skyrockets at the sound of Louis’ voice coming through the receiver.

“I saw these really gorgeous flowers in the park on the way home and they made me think of you,” Louis says one night when they're both cuddled up on the sofa with a glass of wine, two hundred and sixty something miles between them.

“Yeah? What kind of flowers?” Harry asks around a fond smile, his chest blooming with affection for his sappy boyfriend.

“I don’t know, you know I never picked up on that stuff… they were really pretty though. I think it was some kind of roses, all pink like your lips,” Louis explains.

Harry’s cheeks heat up at the words, ridiculously endeared and flattered. “That’s nice, you should’ve taken a picture.”

“Didn’t have time to, just wanted to get home to talk to you,” Louis says, his voice thick with emotion. “ _God_ , babe, I miss you so much.”

“I miss you too,” Harry answers, tears quickly welling up the way they tend to do after a few sips of wine and a piece of your heart missing.

“I just… I really love the job and everything, but I just feel so lost without you,” Louis says, mirroring the thoughts that whirr around in Harry’s head.

“I know, I feel the same,” Harry says and swallows against the lump in his throat. “It’s going to be worth it in the end though, love.”

They have had this conversation what feels like hundreds of times already, but Louis still answers with the same words Harry knows he will.

“Remind me again why,” his voice now wavering with a smile that Harry can picture perfectly.

“Because you love me and I love you and that’s all that matters.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave kudos or a comment if you enjoyed ❤
> 
> You can also find me on [tumblr.](http://gaycousinlarry.tumblr.com/)
> 
> And here's a tumblr post if you want to [reblog.](http://gaycousinlarry.tumblr.com/post/163322277488/remind-me-again-written-by-momentofclarity) Thank you!


End file.
